"The light grew old
And the hour itself reeked of pure finality..."


The air was still, breathing unease
Of oblivion's glacial release
And a promise of gravecold serenity


Among the lost, the tombless few
Granted a sight, a perfect view

To feast our eyes on a world scale demise

For what were we if not mere flies

Upon a storm bound to arise
Set to unfold from the very tomb of Time


I witnessed the Death of the Tyrant
Sans fear beheld the fading light


Bereft and left for the death to take us
'Cross distances unseen,
To world's beyond this ether

On the broken wings of a dream
For the hour is upon us
Cimmerian night unveiled

And all shall be redone
Where past creators failed


Lay down and embrace the deathlong sleep
For time has come for this crop to be reaped