Song of (the) last choir of souls desirable
and heart beating of the Dark Master
throbs in the veins of black blood
on the wings of fire embraced in ice
Gold bu*terfly in the black blossom's sea
supported by earth, not the sun
engagements of light and dark
breed a crowd of gray undead.
In the silence sounds a drum's storm
kettle drums from depths of past
in the dateless chambers wakes anger
from silent cobwebs quickens a stone
Drums in the deep, sad accompany
Accompany of wrath music
Wrath of wind, water and sun.
White sand flows through my fingers
and I'm parting with every grain
with every throb of earth's life
with every tree in its arms.
Black tears drip over my cheeks
pleasure and madness in the eyes
as cheering rays of the last day
I am coming a part of dust and stars
In the silent sounds a drums storm
kettle drums from depths of past
in the dateless chambers wakes anger
from silent cobwebs quickens a stone.
Storm calmed, drums hushed
and a new sun has risen, new springs have burst
unfettered with any arm
from dust and wreck flowered a tree.
Souls of martyrs expired wrath is gone
only a memory like a drop is left
blood drop on the bloom of tree of life