Seven signs upon the welkin high A prophecy of man to die The irony of the curse was the fact of the prayer It was invoked in ignorant despair A boundless terror blazing rage In the shape of a sexless angel With the soul of a cosmic tyrant In control of the infinitive forces To create and destroy Whirlwinds and chaos sweeps the earth It cracks the soil and drains the oceans the angel I deny your human kind And your nature are insignificant To me you are blind And now you shall burn in a global Phyre! the prophecy The final of an era Burning rivers running red Beneath black towes erected high Piercing the starlit shimmering sky Before a world destruction A cosmic terror rage In the shape of a sexless angel! Winds of mayhem, violent clouds An undrainable source of madness Which shreds the soul, betrays the eyes But whats written shall be done In the garden of chaos We all shall BURN!
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