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Tyrants Blood



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Tyrants Blood

Slaine The Berzerker

[1 Cauldron Of Blood]

A once great king, confined to an eternal fortress, the battle frenzied power of an undead warrior.
Flaming spear of the sun comes alive.
Legends everlasting.
To the earthen prison he is bound, enriching the blade with deeds of violence.
Ritualistically killed, he is gone from us now.

Sacred maidens of eternal flame,led to dictatorship and misery.
Invigorated by the spoils of war.

Cauldron of blood and sword of moon.
Power to feed the thirsty slaughter withdrawn
Cauldron of blood and sword of moon,king of kings the horned god.

Look beyond life to the higher realms,
Submerged deep within the subconscious, grotesque inversions of life.
Insufferable destruction,desirable ending in sight.
Lamenting the unbearable absence prayer, the manuscripts drenched in virgin filth.

Slaine will ask for blood,
Slaine will lessen the loss.
The absence is over.
The conjuring of the deity is dormant at the gate of death.

[2 Eyes Without Life]

[3 Flesh Cage Of Insanity]

Slaine, decaying specter, savagely shortens miseries of life on this plain.
slanes venomous blood,
crimson fluid carried by the wind.
Slaughtered warriors through processes restrained.
Slaine, the tortured scream.

Blood shall be the battle nourishing the blade in the bodies of his enemies.
Mangled flesh, rotting and impotent.
Cruel vengeance.

Violence is all on impulse,relishing the prospect of an easy kill.
Uncongenial the carnage, ordaining slaughter and destruction.

Rise, Destroy!
Slaine has them all groveling for mercy.
Eyes without life stare blankly into the distance.
Screams of the living.

Thunder from chariots.
Slaines legend grows.
Nothing left to overthrow,
the battle has been won.

Brooding on the failed action of the one appointed the horned god,
Rest the blade on the bodies piled high in an act of glory.
Putrescent revenge is a cherished gift he bestows.

Let the fight of smoke and mirrors clear the cool night sky.
He waits to meet you there, he will lead you there.

Battle weary soldiers raise the blade.
Glory bound marching to salvation.
Dead to the realms executed in a fury.
Contusions too much too bare.

Distant voices growing louder , getting stronger.
Fallen empires trampled over and disposed of,
Distant voices growing louder getting stronger.
The horned God, Slaine.