---

An ice cold shine falls in the dale,
on bloodied rocks it gleams.
The piercing light is sickly pale,
malignantly it streams.

Creatures patternlessly twist,
they bathe in murky light
and viscous, dank, miasmal mist
under antediluvian might.

The distant orb spills out its shine,
with ever changeless mien.
The glow falls pallid on their shrine,
indifferent to the scene.

On blood, on stone, on rites of yore,
on worshipers below,
uncaring beams that they adore,
a chill, unwholesome glow.

Enchanted, lowly entities
look up to find their grace.
A staring eye that never sees,
a heedless, barren face.

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.