Conspirator

Condemned to walk the earth alone

First a shadow then a sorrow

The bitter solace friend and foe

Baneful tongues and solemn lore

Strokes of death to guide the summons

Smoke in wreaths above beguiling

Brewing creeping indescence

Bursting lights and fearless thunder

Mercenaries

Forgotten slain

Lords of Bedlam

The web of wickedness devours

All that's hallowed woe will follow

Amidst the cry and lamentation

With crooked hands contrives the charm

Hence rivers of brume beckon the ancients

A troop of echoes forges forward

Mouths wide open like ghastly sores

Curse the matron, damn the whore

And the tempest rose

With the north wind

As the banshee wailed

Spewing her venom condemned

And torrents roared

Engulfed in flames

As the banshee wailed

Prophetic of death's approach