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The Burial Tree - text


In line they stand
To watch us burn
To breathe our storm
Birds of prey cry
Hitting dry earth
Shiver in their shells
When vultures sing
And demons prevail

Rituals of fire
Vermin encaged
A two-tongued man
Bringer of the truth
Blinded by fear
Set us on fire
The haunted calls
Watch us go

Black tank of violent words
A harsh scream
Struggle then fall
A nerve that cracks
The burial tree
Hidden from the enemy
So deadly calm
Come break the silence

And lift the curse

Eye of the storm
Expose the bones
Host of the winged
On sacred soil
Borders the unreal
Echoes of yesterday

Our souls, our sorrow
Removed and reburied
Cursed time, our hell will come
Cursed life, our time is on hold

Text přidal roman59

Host Of The Winged

Agrimonia texty

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