Be horned kings gather
A congregation of dark
Vivid sea marks the border
As black gates whimper
Lord of tyrants hail
The end of sunshine's reign
Broken be that jail
Decomposed into grain
Rigor mortis within the hold
Crushed by the arcane misfits
Infinite black, hexagon in gold
Furious embers of green and purple
Rise with monolith's towards the suns
The golden kings oscilate and moans
With voices deeper than a thousand crypts
Deconstructing a million years of creation
Decomposing the work of the architect
Fallen agents of the suns bleed
As the one they call blind, undo worlds
Life turns to stone, in the sea of Vol
Darkness has fallen
Upon the acolytes of Golden Kings
Your kings are dead

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS