Cirith Gorgor

The Stormrulers (The Art Of Megalomania)

Cirith Gorgor


[Prologue:] 

Once there was a time 
When we would wander through landscapes 
Which seemed infinite under the light 
Of a sun that was to be murdered by the darkness of night 
Like a knife it cut us free 
Allowing us Earth's secrets to be seen 

The wind carries our soul through the air 
Sanguine creatures we have never been 
The way that lies ahead of us 
Is covered with mysterious melancholy 
Draped in nightly enigmas, only for us to see 

And long journeys we travel 
Their horses sweating when we arrive 
Our coming carves fear in their hearts 
And men weapon themselves in fright 
We are cloaked by darkness, under pitch-black skies 
And storms sweep over their lands 
Their steel is useless against our might 
Never again will it shine in the bleak moonlight 

The wind carries our soul through the air 
The east we'll destroy, the west will obey 
The north we'll possess, the south we will slay 

Leaving behind lands in decay 
Creating a morbid light on our path 
Wandering so exalts our existence 
We are the withering flowers on their grave 

...And storms sweep over their lands... 

And long journeys we travel 
Their horses sweating when we arrive 
Our coming carves fear in their souls 
As our swords shine in the bleak moonlight