The Slayers of Sorrow
The Wind bellows & the Sun burns, The moon is mellow & the sea churns; If I lose myself in this inky night, Will you lend me your nocturnal might? The tomorrows of today, melt into the todays of tomorrow, Join in my crusade, against the hordes of Sorrow! Let us strike and make this Ancient God bleed, Unleash our collective bloodlust, and in a frenzy, feed! Do I trust or fear? These ideals are like thin drapes over my rage: So sheer; Rally our feral sentiments, Overcome Sorrow's cruel Detriments; To drench the Sun in Sorrow's blood & render the moon sanguine, We finally taste victory long into our path so serpentine; Sorrow heaves and breathes their last, As Death claims them, ravenously fast. In the aftermath, we stand: The Slayers of Sorrow, Drenched in liquid melancholy, oblivious to the story of tomorrow; As I stand, taking in our euphoric faces, I realise our recently crimsoned cosmos is full of empty & vacant spaces; The deafening silence of Sorrow's ...