| Only one night is missing
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| But this one will bring the storm that put an end to everything
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| The sky is still starlit, but if our faith, our desire is forceful enough
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| The strings of silence — hushed
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| The strings of silence — smooth
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| Within a few hours all signs will read storm
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| Listen!
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| It is true that there exist individuals
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| Who are never looking prouder
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| Warliker then the rising of the storm
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| Many-voiced the singing rises
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| The air seems to condense
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| Filled with electric sparks
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| Starting to fly, to rotate, to spin
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| To oscillate in the centre of the magical circle
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| The voices sound higher
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| Coil-linke circling and narrowing
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| The light rises faster and faster
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| (The sound is undescribable)
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| The voices resemble blowing wind, howling wolves
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| The silence break hissingly
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| The storm put on it’s strings
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| The strait looks like a witch’s cauldron
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| Like a hotblooded foaming geyser
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| The elements are in uproar
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| Now all signs are stormy
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| It’s insignia are shining dark ablaze
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| A shining ablaze from a violent encounter of sulphur and lead
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| Everything is out of breath
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| Everything is beside itself — storm world!
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| In the shadow of heavy wings
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| Sorceresses preserver
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| In their fluttering clothes resist the beating weather
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| That almost tear the garments of our bodies
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| Flashes in the eye
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| Endless high pulsating coil
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| Is rising from the cone
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| A magical and miraculous horn
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| Of a unicorn whose top gets lost in infinity
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| Sparks spray, thunders beat, lightnings are inflamed
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| That the air is filled with the claps of heavy wings
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| The apocalyptic wildness of the storm
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| Who’s now reigning with a brachial power unleashed despot
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| The string of the storm!
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| The storm of hell that never halts there
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| It drives the ghosts and demons in it’s vortex
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| Everlasting, for the fatal and glorious return of our master… |