Behold, the land is quenched Blood stained and violence drenched The sovereign king of lies clenches ringed fists The writhing oracle drips within her odious mists Her name is Pyphina, stolen in infancy She who knows yet to be impending timelines They oracle spoke “Stripped of pure essence, gutted every grave desecrated Sold to the pillaging in pain” Sitting in the anguish and drawn into crimson stalls Tearing cryptic visions in the mythic rift She sees the future bound premonitions sheTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
