Our fortress sits on a craggy cliff
Beneath dark and fetid skies.
From dull trees, rotted leaves drift;
Through dead branches, the cold wind sighs.
I am the Master of our kingdom
Overlooking the roiling sea.
One day I saw the Dark Warrior come
Laying siege to our Guild and me.
The minstrel sings of his fierce conquests.
He has vanquished many a foe.
With devil's resolve, he never rests
Or so the legends goes.
Hidden treasures; Battlements of stone;
Hot tears pouring down ravaged wall;
We guard the battered ramparts alone.
I will not let my castle fall!
With coldest heart, he listens to me plead.
I curse his soul to hell.
"Why conquer a castle you do not need
And leave me ruins in which to dwell?"
In darkest chambers, defeated banners rise;
Firelight reflecting the many battles won.
Those who pretended the Warrior's guise,
Now bloodied cloth of past deeds sung.
We summoned the soothsayer to our door,
"Cast down your stones of rune!
Is he like those who have come before.
And will the battle be joined soon?"
The toothless crone, now dim of eye
Bends close to see destiny unfold.
We listen to his lamentable sigh
"He is the one who was foretold."
Anger, bitterness and fearful thought
Weigh heavily as we pace the floor.
Looking for answers which we sought,
We call on heaven's help once more.
Summoning courage to our side,
Resolving to meet our fate.
Armour girded, head held high,
We go to protect our castle gate.
Through portal gates, the banners advance.
With shield, sword and dread, we go
To mate in battle's gruesome dance,
Marching toward our ruthless foe.
Cries of victory on every breath
Reverberating primeval sound.
Drawn to the field of impending death,
Like the smell of blood to a rabid hound.
Savage warriors in an unholy place.
Flesh torn by screaming sword,
Beads of rage trickle down our face;
Our bones are mangled; our bodies gored.
Howls of anger; cries of fright;
Heat of death overtakes the cold of day.
Light fading toward the gloom of night
As upon the ground, the carnage lay.
Through the portals, my guild retreats
As blood covers the setting sun.
Neither he nor I will admit defeat
Although the Angel of Death has won.
Weariness weighs heavily upon my chest
As we mount the chapel stair.
Where is that promised eternal rest?
Is it hidden in the chancel there?
Quiet admonition of the rosary bead;
The Virgin glares from her pedestal high.
The demons of my own guilt feed;
Bitter anger churns inside.
Kneeling in penance upon the slated floor,
Offering up the souls of my dead comrades.
The needless slaughter, I bitterly abhor
And receive no absolution from my sin.
Prayers for my comrades who were lost.
Cries of "Hail Mary, Full of Grace".
Stained glass spills crimson on the cross;
We find no solace in this sacred place.
Turning away from the impotent Lord.
No sanctuary for this tortured heart.
To ancient Gods we will now implore,
"Give to us the darkest arts."
We go to the bowels of the dungeon
Down the dank and winding step.
Hidden away from the rising sun,
Moss clings where the dying wept.
Screams of terror from the distant past,
Murmurs echoing down the corridor
Of many who breathed their last.
Oh, I have seen them here before.
I feign courage and hope it does not fail
But cannot stop my trembling hand.
I close my ears to spectral wail;
Childish nightmares plague mortal man.
What is it that touches me?
We hear the whispers, "Alone! Alone!"
Is that fleeting spirits I see?
We look again ~ and they are gone.
Ahead the door of wisdom waits
Of things man should not know;
But we must go through forbidden gates
To triumph over our darkest foe.
Toward eternal hell we go forth
Bleak night is waiting for us
As we take this final breath.
No hope, but tears, to set us free.
We dance with the angel of death.
Wretched soul, tormented yet
At demon's gate we'll soon be met,
So tis better for us to die,
Than let Evil reign again on high!
