As the ashen cloak slowly falls upon the sky As all hopes suddenly grow shy Icened screams echoeing through the night A dark antom to the fading light There, in the heart of the dark tower Awakens the beast, child of anger He spreads his broken wings over the valley Accusing finger to all that must pay As the sweet nectar slowly drips Down his long twisted fangs Like the touch of a rose on his lips The extasy of death in a momment that forever hangs His talons bitting deeply through the flesh Bones breaking under his deadly caress New blood, so warm, so fresh Through pain and suffering, he shall bestow rest The last shadow of his twisted kindness Dissapearing into his mind's black empyness He knows not pain, he knows not fear Emotions to human to reach up here Black sheep of the angels, the ugly vulture Feared by mortals, shuned by saints No time to weep, no time to faint Only present, forgotten past, unconcious future...
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