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I travelled through the eyes of the |
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Necroscope |
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Into the realm where marble tombs lay open |
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Where Death and |
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Decay hold their thrones |
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And sorrow chants her funeral song |
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A weird sweet music fills the air |
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As shadow forms gather in circles |
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And it is nighttime, so cold, so dark |
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When spirits start their dance macabre |
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Ghostly dancers whirling around |
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Their lips move in silence |
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And there is death in their eyes |
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A young couple waltzes among the gravestones (holding goblets of silver in their hands) |
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Together they drink as the music plays on |
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Together they die poisoned by their own hands |
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Beside a grey mausoleum |
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Two duellists fence with etherial blades |
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And as the sword pierces the heart |
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A misty veil enshrouds them both |
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A man whose faithless wife betrayed his love |
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Slays the unwary lovers onto their bed of lust |
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As a poet of unsound mind ends his damned being |
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Giving his life for the glory of the black art |
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Centuries of spectral agony and pain |
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Performed like a drama before my eyes |
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In the first light of day the spirits disappear |
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In a haze of ghostly mist shimmer away |
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Until the next time they replay their deaths |
