Wrathage

Torchbearer

Wrathage


As seen through my eyes the world is already dead 
Yet monuments of pain and death 
Remain shells beyond emptiness 
Beyond hate 
The winds of war travelled through every life 
Those who stood above the fall 
Still standing proud 
Came the fall of false and true 
Nothing mattered, yet the pain, misery and hate 
Misanthropy was the truth, survived the days 
When death was revealed 
Like in times of glory 
Truly dark, shining black, serpent of fall 
Hymns of doom, judgement tolls 
Now in memories 
They all fell, will never rise 
No, nothing matters, nothing did, yet the pain 
As a stone he stands, megalith of dead-end dreams 
Life is forgotten 
We can go proud 
Yes the way was lit, brought the war 
Bearer of torch 
Weaves the fall as he did 
I live the dream of the misanthrope 
Conquered all, yet the pain remains 
Nothing matters no nothing did 
Torch bearer feared the truth 
Murderer of pleasent dreams 
Thus the pain, bore the fall 
Joy is dead, always was 
Life goes on dead 
No, I know not, who called my name 
I know the happy reaper (who called my name) 
gave the torch for me to bear 
The winds are gone, war has died 
I bore the torch 
In dead-end dreams 
Nothing matters, nothing did 
Yet the pain 
Nothing to hate 
Wish I could 
Life goes on dead 
Born alone, always dead 
Waves of void hit the shores 
I see the goat in my eyes