From the dust, assembling form
Lashing out with flint and bone
Matted furs, rotting hides
Withered skin, black pits for eyes
In ancient days we stopped the ice
We crushed the Jhag at gruesome price
Now we must heed the first sword’s call
His wrath is kindled, a doom m

Still we ride, fight, and die
Wayward path far beyond the pale
We are lost, marching on
Heavy hearts longing for those lands we once called home

Emerald hills, sparking seas
Fade to distant memory
Horizons blaze in foreign land
Ochre seas of scorching sand

The

The pale blue fire of glittering spires ablaze
The sojourner’s beacon, a wondrous shimmering place
Through ages forgotten, in many a traveler’s dream
Through winding cobblestone pathways
Where dwell demons, mages, and thieves

In temples and taverns where secrets are whisper

There is a deep pathos here
A monumental sorrow
Blood has stained this ground
The very land itself a barrow

The echoes of battle ring cold through the ages
The moon shines on old dunes, awakening ancient hatreds

Swords held high to the desert sky at such great a cost<

Over the land there lies a long shadow
Westward reaching wings of darkness
The tower trembles, to the tombs of kings
Doom aproaches. The dead awaken
For the hour is come for the oathbreakers
At the stone of Erech they shall stand again
And hear there a horn in the hills r

The burning fires fill the sky as a golden light enfilades the night
Shattered mountains crumble away, their smouldering heaps upon the plains
Ashes of gods, a cinereous rain
A torrent of death covers the slain
Blood has stained the silent stone where armies have fallen before th

Across the plains come drifts of sand
From graves of water and tombs of man
The hollow weight of history
Desiccated and blowing free

In the wake, all is dust

The bones of beasts and the bones of kings
Become dust in the wake of the hymn
Mighty kingdoms rise, but t