Though the sun rose there was no comfort to be found
He emerged from his shelter exposed to the world, stricken with grief
His empty halls echoed an eerie calm as he gazed with shame at his ocean of gold

Disregard for compassion had built him his kingdom, carved upon frail stone
An aggressor. A tyrant. Imperious.
He harnessed the earth, tormenting her soul

Vigor of kings ineptly disguised
Pretense of power no longer concealed

Scorched fields beget a growing thirst
Beckoning help from the towering sky

The rain began to fall and it poured with knowledge of atrocity

Earth, constantly shifting canvas of the gods
Of sun and soil, sweat and blood
Reclaims the surface by the headwinds and waters
In a semblance of things to come

And so he fell, cried out alone
Crippled, fearful of an end
No longer proud

Tarnished ruins for tarnished land
On this ground no force shall stand free of torment, nor free of chains
Having met its final days

---

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