Age old

 

 

Time is a cruel tourture

Decaying all that is bright

Rotting all that symbolizes

Eroding only the purest memories

 

Look now, to the old shamon

His bones cracked, withered

His hair greying as a polluted strech of night sky

Young vigor no longer mocking death

 

Recall his past, deep in his rich mind, the building of a city

A grad golden city, rich with life

The shining city, rich with life

The shining city, now swollowed by the earth

Glimmering gates, cruelest fates

Crying deck rooms, filthy treasures

Killer soldiers lining the halls

Eating..feasting on their leaders!

 

Stomping anger, cruelest love

Sin filled touch consuming

The rotting dove!

This hell, this death

The old  man found, seeking no repentence