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A place afar in distant dreams |
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Mystic winds blow |
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Men mount birds of prey to war |
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And raid each others shore |
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Wizards and |
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Warlocks battle by night |
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One survives by cunning and might |
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Take what you can by sword and sabre |
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Just reward for perilous labour |
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Stands among them a natural |
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King A man of barbaric breed |
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In a blade of steel he lays his trust |
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Killing and taking his needs |
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Upon him the scars of battles gone by |
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From many who have gazed in his murderous eye |
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Astride his mount he cursed and then |
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Assembled his men in thousands and ten |
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Onward lads we'll kill them all |
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Victory is ours |
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We'll have their heads and female slaves |
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Soon to loot their towers |
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Riding hard they rushed the gates |
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And scaled the granite walls |
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Through boiling oil and falling stone |
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His men endured it all |
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In bloody streets the battle raged |
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Brave men died and women were caged |
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Amidst the hoard, a barbaric roar |
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He gut the guard and kicked down the door |
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Sword in one hand, torch in the other |
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Alert every step of the way |
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If legends be true this place is cursed |
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Demons stand guard night and day |
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Living hell cloaked in black |
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Three ungodly hosts |
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Upon the dais a ball of light |
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Which binds them to their post |
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Faster than a striking cobra |
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Hit the altar and knocked it over |
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Shattered in a silver shower |
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The priests of hell have lost their power |
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Up the stairs a golden door |
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The queen awaits within |
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Her naked body close to his |
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The prize is won again |
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And has she yields to his force |
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His mind drifts off to |
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Future Wars |
