Wrath of the Tyrant

The wolves bark with wind in summertime. As the moon passes the shadows. It was a grim tale. The wolves pry the limbs from the conquered ones. Carnage consumes the emptiness. Wait till my spirits come forth. Violate all his chosen ones. Drink the fir

The heavens are lit by the stars Where years of secrets of universal forces lay hid. They shine so bright, but yet They have seen more evil than time itself. Reflected in the deepless lakes (they are drowning in black elements). They are the planetar