quarta-feira, 16 de julho de 2008

Celtic King

Why does my soul cry, in disdain,
No longer a puppet, needing salvation,
I keep my shadow outside, in the rain,
For saints in a mission.

Prepare for the fall,
Regret of the sane,
Crime of you all,
Awaiting king to enter his reign.

All faces turn away,
The blood fills the veins,
As it washes away the day,
Celtic King, dead he lays.

Laws of the Earth,
Water, Fire, Earth and Wind,
Witness a new birth,
Of an immortal sin.

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