down in the valley where the rivers run red
and blood runs cold, the blood of my kin.
fading heartbeats, whispers from the past,
the voices from my dreams.
beneath the blankets of a waking world,
a place that haunts me, reminds me of life,
where sun and shade collide,
my soul makes its home under graying skies.
ghosts carried on the broken wings of fate
across oceans never sailed,
over mountains never climbed,
created by gods never worshipped.
like a lost wish blowing in the wind.
eyes black as night and as deep as their sorrow,
trapped between two sides of a mirror,
neither one showing truth.
destiny's misshapen face weeps behind a mask,
cloaked in night's illusions, naked in the sun,
he shies from his reflection,
bows his head to ponder immortality.
from deep within the shadows, we shall rise.
and as they fall to their own madness
wallowing in a half-bred existence,
they shall know darkness; they shall know fear.
here stands the wearer of the black hood.
behold the omen.
the magic of death.
the meaning of my dreams.