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They gathered in the morning twilight, ten thousand mortal men |
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With banners held high to the sky, and eyes that gleamed with pride |
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Their hail was carried through the air as the king adressed the crowd |
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He spoke of the battle soon to come, and how the day world end in glory |
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They all hearkened to his wisdom and in their souls a hope was lit |
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And with his words still ringing in their ears they marched... onwards into battle |
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The morning silence was broken by ten thousand marching men |
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Unknowing of what the day might bring their hearts all beat with strength |
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The day of reckoning was finally here, the slavery would end |
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with dreams of freedom they rose their heads and stared into the sun |
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A cold pale void on the freezing sky, bearly breaking through the dust |
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High above it's fading light lead the way... onwards into battle |
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Before them laid a cold grey desert, a landscape void of life |
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The portal of the tower stared like the black eyes of the night |
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The tower stood as a spike thrust straight in to the heart of heaven |
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As struck down in to the mountain by giants of the past |
