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Into Oblivion - Gleaming Thrones of Triumph


Fortress alarms smite the midnight atmosphere

Chiming through the Twilight Void

A coward and commoners tocsin ringing a warning,

Men, defenders to arms!

The temples flood with tortured souls, begging for reprieve,

To pray for a Divine hand to relinquish this Evil

The sickly croaks from cracked bells are drowned out by trumpet blasts

Coming from hills, shrouded,

Horns of extricate fury, the vehement Clarion

The call of Victory

Proud and wilful laughter,

A foil to all cries.

And a mighty Hail erupts before the gate

Calling forth the King

Crowned leech, cloaked worm

He crawls forth to the battlement

Rebukes me the name of his gods

For their will be done

“Feeble king,

I usurp thee for I Will it so,

For MY Will be done,”

The regal worm writhes in slime

Sibilating venomous deceit

“You are the blasphemous Tyrant from the

Cursed Lands of Frost and Destitution, The Blind Weavers

Of Destiny bid you no victory this day”

“I am but a manifestation of Fate,

The Will draws the strings of Eternity

Attached to my War-soul,

A mere conduit for the Grand Design!”

Infernal battering ram

Kiss the ideal of destruction

Storming the court yard

In mighty Rage, glorious slaughter

Spear, sword, shield,

Puzzles of death and victory!

The soil drinking the blood,

In slaked thirst expelling

Sanguine mist,

Cloaking us in dark knowing

VOID, BY WILL YOU ARE REVEALED

STRIKE: a saga written in blood and steel

WOUND:, a tender kiss from Life,

Will of the Origin

Through or by Death: Victory!

The King among his fallen, still mighty and proud,

For theirs was truly a worthy death

He is brought to his knees

To die with honour,

For those that know, know!

And hollow Virtue

Once great

Kingdom decrepit, once reigned,

Each now of emptiness, and dust.

His Death-Song completes conquest’s Invocation,

Clearly sung as the blade is raised

“I will soon join you in the Halls of Eternity,

Your Divine Creel is near, Your Abyss will cease laughter,

Your temple will lend me it’s knowledge!”

Proud Serpentine King

The leech crownless, the worm revealed

How his blood reacts with the soil

In congealing, mystic circles

Once more producing the sanguine mist

Floating wisps to the Vaults

Towards the edifice of Worth-ship, consummated.

In circular formation

Our helms are removed

Affirming gleams of the Black Sun

Strike our brow

Bless us with hidden merit.

And the circle breaks as cries are heard

Emanating from the Vaults

A song of songs!

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