The sun reclaims its glowing throne The dawning light shines on the holy desert Eternal gale of sand and stone Shrouds the tracks we carve in the dirt
Abandoned echoes of an age that died Ring out through this arid plain Pounding hooves stamp the land cracked and dried And plunge through the fiery bane
Biting wind rolls down from high Wayward earth quakes from beneath Torrent of grit roaring from purple sky A lonely god’s anger unleashed
Battered with hermetic dread Slaves of isolation drawing near I feel a force, a prophetic godhead It warms the air, to thaw my fear
A man born from an ancient rite With eyes of silver moonlight A hand of swiftness and of ruin Wisdom of the seers is provenTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
