The Dragonthrone Wars by Elephant Lyrics
The drums of war are playing on the wind
Legions in a golden blaze advancing
The air is riddled with ash and fire
A twisting spectre against the heavens
Like the sullen scowl of blackest woe, a land grievous and besieged
Hammered by storms and pestilence, never to rest
Hell beyond hell, eradication, burning ferocity
Swords erect pounding at the sky - a desperate tantrum of futility
Never will a leader fight his own battles
An amphitheatre of fresh fodder
Crimson axes, a cold moon in chaos
Cannot escape the martyr's curse
All for one greedy king's quest for power
Only a conqueror following the common ruinous path
The powers are bickering while their people are suffering
And there is no wise counsel within these fragile walls
An exalted scepter, an internecine damnation
Baleful causes tending toward chaos and disarray
Knights in horned helms on an impotent crusade
Without legacy or deeds for remembrance
By the ruthless dictatorship of the sword and spear
The axis of demolition is crafted
For the blood on a cross on the hill of the skull
The religion of warfare, deliverance through demise
Wave after wave of armored fury broke upon the ranks
Berserker rage without any mercy, mountains smashed to dust
Driven by the madness of revenge, battle turns to slaughter
Victory dies at the hands of annihilation
Countless were the dead that fell by my hand
I saw them through my tears - those beloved now useless
Barbaric devastation, carnage taints the soil
Blasted earth and despair, a thousand voices roar in agony
Even the gods are silent
All the perished weep
The eyes of the dragon shall reveal
The dark has no end
A sole lord throws down his weapons and leaves the battlefield
Disgusted by the doom of a poisoned struggle
Hailing the few brave enough to wage peace
Mortal thrones are like falling leaves in a gale
Legions in a golden blaze advancing
The air is riddled with ash and fire
A twisting spectre against the heavens
Like the sullen scowl of blackest woe, a land grievous and besieged
Hammered by storms and pestilence, never to rest
Hell beyond hell, eradication, burning ferocity
Swords erect pounding at the sky - a desperate tantrum of futility
Never will a leader fight his own battles
An amphitheatre of fresh fodder
Crimson axes, a cold moon in chaos
Cannot escape the martyr's curse
All for one greedy king's quest for power
Only a conqueror following the common ruinous path
The powers are bickering while their people are suffering
And there is no wise counsel within these fragile walls
An exalted scepter, an internecine damnation
Baleful causes tending toward chaos and disarray
Knights in horned helms on an impotent crusade
Without legacy or deeds for remembrance
By the ruthless dictatorship of the sword and spear
The axis of demolition is crafted
For the blood on a cross on the hill of the skull
The religion of warfare, deliverance through demise
Wave after wave of armored fury broke upon the ranks
Berserker rage without any mercy, mountains smashed to dust
Driven by the madness of revenge, battle turns to slaughter
Victory dies at the hands of annihilation
Countless were the dead that fell by my hand
I saw them through my tears - those beloved now useless
Barbaric devastation, carnage taints the soil
Blasted earth and despair, a thousand voices roar in agony
Even the gods are silent
All the perished weep
The eyes of the dragon shall reveal
The dark has no end
A sole lord throws down his weapons and leaves the battlefield
Disgusted by the doom of a poisoned struggle
Hailing the few brave enough to wage peace
Mortal thrones are like falling leaves in a gale