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Spawned From The Flesh Of Time
by
Omens Of Plague
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Laying on the grass is how I spend most of these dying days Face up, waiting for the stars, lost into the unknown Euphoria hidden behind calmness of eyes and gentle words Waiting for the end of an aeon to come With moans merged together in a single roar Mountains giving in and oceans rising in despair Chaos awaits beyond, deep in slumber, still and cold Echoes residing in the head of chosen mad men Biding supreme I shall fulfill before this fire Wake up and walk with us With wings spawned from the flesh of time itself Break through the waves Towards the bloodshot clouds that render the death of the sky And all things beneath The stars will mark the birth of true freedom Before you take your leap across the cosmic spectrum Breaking the chains of our morale, free of guilt and boundaries We shall become one with the beast that dwells inside Come walk with us I call thy ruin forth
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