A rising smoke of voices. Faces present within the penumbra. Soul after soul ascending to realms further beyond. A greater pain for the world to suffer. The last remnant of adoration. Passing on its benevolence. To an infant unknown to the suns light.
A touch never to be felt again. The ascending shadow of her demise. Shrouds the sun, cloaking the lands in an umbra. A memory stained on a mind yet to influence.
"Abscond to the forests Guardian. To conceal the last of the line."
He who shall rise. To the throne of Time. And extirpate the calamitous spectre.
Separatist diplomacy limited the reach of reason. Echoes, vibrations and sardoniscorn voices. Left to wallow in their despondent domains. Until the step beyond time and space.
Where the phantasm will rise again. And the Hero of Time will sever the bond. Time will haul the spectre back from the depths wince he came.
A touch never to be felt again. The ascending shadow of her demise. Shrouds the sun, cloaking the lands in an umbra. A memory stained on a mind yet to influence.
Befelled with the silhouette of dejection that comes with the pain. Dissipating the force until the darkness of another epoch.
He who shall rise. To the throne of Time. And extirpate the calamitous spectre.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
