| Atop gleaming stone pillars, sanguine refractions of light
|
| Crimson wound skies caress the jagged earth
|
| And the wind beckons me
|
| A darker landscape shrouds my mind, calling me closer
|
| The dreamscape defies time, a distant rumor
|
| A land forgotten
|
| History is this place
|
| Wretched visions beset tortured thoughts
|
| Towards the blackened fog I wander
|
| With my last glance I wield a smirk
|
| The voice fades, as does the sun
|
| Into the dreamscapes unknown
|
| Following shadows and visions that I’ve been shown
|
| History is this place
|
| Wretched visions beset tortured thoughts
|
| Towards the blackened fog
|
| Caverns of moss in the distance
|
| Shrieks echo and distort movement of shadows
|
| All the ever present inhabitants gather, like ash to flame
|
| Leading me closer to what I desire
|
| Greeted with purrs of remorse and endless gloom
|
| A faction long lost and sheltered by vines
|
| A ritual in place, stone stacked side by side |