And the Voice From Legend Will Proclaim

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

Decayed castle in neglected park Seemed more sullen after dark. Grey aged walls, overgrew with ivy. In every stone felt the fatal destiny. Bygone fame, left in the past. Like withered leaves flayed away with the wind Departed greatness, covered by dust Everything that stayed with dying kin. Hoary servant, bent by the years For a long time had felt the failing He was like a father to the youthful heir For count, who saw the nineteenth spring. But he dreamed of feats and romances were Only pleasure in his life. At nightfall the youth stayed alone with old folios in trembling candlelight. All altered as if were of hand of conjurer When once belated the strolling theatre Asked to spent the night behind the walls of castle. And the host himself met them in spite of title. Dancing flame of the flaring brands Old servant's heart squeeged with a pain Laugh and gaiety and full hall of guests Seemed that old time returned again. Amid of the guests was the finest maid. With the sparkling eyes and light flush on her face. The princess-dream from concealed Dreamland And spellbound youth hid admiring gaze. He would looks most likely for ages in radiant eyes of colour of clear sky. Like sunbeam lit up her beautiful dark face, when she bestowed a smiles. Deep thought, sleepless night on the eve of the farewell. He would gives the world to stay with the one who was a perfect marvel. Where meadows of flowers unfold to horizon, where road merges with white cloud-drift. Where breath of the wind like a gulp of sweet honey, where's no need to space of your transient fits. Posies of wild flowers and modest aureate ring. He favoured her with all his heart, and in her eyes was blooming spring From town to town they'd been carrying gladness, leaving there small part of own soul. And tears of emotion came out on youth's eyes, when a gathered crowd was so glad. Follow left summer moved on the caravans Count more and more felt drown to new friends. And once he couldn't refused his wish. The last step on scene and all for him vanished. His senseless gestures were very awkward And audience hissed the youth off the stage. The first failure nearly drove him up mad That importunate din was by cause of powerless rage Falseness could be show through the roles, but how He drew the dagger up and pierced own heart. But wound was bled and bled, every instant force was leaving the youth and soon he knelt. He hadn't seen by now how people clapped him, when the curtain fell.

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025

Ring my silver little bells Loudly play my magic lute Come on listen,what I'll tell. Thus, I begin my tale. Strange as it may appear What I tell is mere truth For all those tastes differ Don't like it, don't hear. Once upon a time there lived King, who was a true madcap He would often be so clowned All the neighbours almost split Their spides with laughter. And about his daughter rumoured That she was a trifle ugly. Slightly lame, slightly squinf-eyed But, of course, had heap of money. Heigh, friend! Pour out the wine! Somehow throat is parched. Heigh, innkeeper! Don't be mean! I know what means much! Naturally, my mug is empty, Now it leaves only sigh. Hear your laughter, see your smiles There's reward of mine Yeah! With the bride, like that, even if with tidy dowry Tell the truth, had met a few reckless lads, inclined to marry. If the own courtiers had hid one other another, So what to tell about all those overseas admirers. As if it was a problems, To find a husband for a daughter! Through the night king couldn't sleep White it not occured him. A fiance shall be appoint compelled Since noone who is wish As soon as King sent for his suite They'd been blown as if by wind Only somewhere either sang Or still muttered court jester. Yeah, of course, all night long drank Hard with the chief cup-bearer. That's right! For want of something better At first time he's that King needs Let it be although the jester Daughter shouldn't stay unmarried. What there so wonderful about that? Get the crown instead of fool's cap. Let's just pour out the wine!

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 26, 2025

Eternal thirst for creation When he became like the Lord The painter believed that some time He would paint a picture and it will revive But hours of heavenly inspiration Could not save for the want. Time out of mind the grief came in our homes With the dying of dearest man your soul's been becoming the stone In fit of despair you appealing for heaven's sake But They don't hear the prayer and she will never wake. He thought, his art, far above the death And the painter refired, going on paint. While under his city spread the wings The Black Death and ruled Her ball on the streets. But ruthless evil had touched him by bony hand. She, he loved dying, had lain on deathbed. In fit of despair he appealed for God's sake But he didn't hear the prayer and she will never wake. He cursed the people, he cursed god He heard the Devil and chose own lot. The black agreement sighed by blood It remained to blend paints with ash of her heart... By the last touch the portrait finished And at that instant it came to life. But her cold fingering and spiritless sight In a flash sobered down his desire Without the heart she's only lifeless image Nobody twice bear under these skies. And he cut the canvas, beyond expiation Shape of the one, he loved turned into ash In fit of despair he appealed for Devil's sake. But he didn't hear the prayer and she will never wake.

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025

Come, kings, and listen to my song: When Gwin, the son of North, Over the nations of the North His cruel sceptre bore; The nobles of the land did feed Upon the hungry poor; They tear the poor man's lamb, and drive They needy from their door... Mordred the giant roused himself From sleeping in his cave; He shook the hills, and in the clouds The troubled banners wave. Beneath them rolled, like tempests black, The numerous sons of blood; Like lion's whelp, roaring abroad, Seeking their nightly food... From tower to tower the watchmen cry, 'O Gwin, the son of North, Arouse thyself! the nations black Like clouds, come rolling o'er! And now the raging armies rushed Like warring mighty seas; The heavens are shook with roaring war, The dust ascends the skies! Earth smokes with blood, and groan and snakes To drink her children's gore, A sea of blood; nor can the eye See to the trembling shore!... Now death is sick, and riven men Labour and toil for life; Steed rolls on steed, and shield on shield, Sunk in this sea of strife! The god of war drunk with blood; The earth doth faint and fail; The stench of blood makes sick the heavens; Ghosts glut the throat of hell! O what have kings to answer for Before that awful throne; When thousand deaths for vengeance cry, And ghosts accusing groan! Like blazing comets in the sky That shake the stars of light, Which drop like fruit unto the earth Throe the fierce burning night; Like these did Gwin and Mordred meet, And the first blow decides; Down from the brow unto the breast Mordred his head divides! Gwin fell: the songs of Norway fled. All that remained alive; The rest did fill the vale of death, For them the eagles strive... [William Blake. 1776] That not dead, wish the Eternity guards The Death with the Eternity at times dies.

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 26, 2025

Stones... Grey stones under a baking sun... Silent witnesses of passed away days. Fine send falling through my fingers, Like drops of the hot dry tears... Drowsy silence and only sorrowful Wind, singing its songs... just the rustling of sand, its quiet whisper Low voice of old the Past. Half-demolished and hid, almost covered with send. And its name there is not in no most ancient lore. Nowhere time is mentioned up, when it was full of life. When its powerful walls rose in bottomless skies. I feel the curse, excessive burden, Which bear these ruins, I feel the fear Given by it off, repeling me Away, impressing me by darksome augury. Here congealed the Past is proceed from each stone From whatever I'm touch, experiencing awe Like in endless sleep I'm strolling in the same Place, where city was rose with its forgotten name. Stones, grey stones under a baking sun... Mysteries, which they to keep Will die with them and let know nothing 'Bout their visions in mortal sleep... I think, in idle world people forgot their Gods Sacred altars were profaned... No, they couldn't die, Gods are immortal They fell asleep till date... As if in magic haze, I sea a river named Age And implacable waves of oblivion are running Over shores of Life where's a man like a grain In unstead world with its endless ways. I see rejected Gods, I feel their curse Ancient as earth itself the city had lost Like both the Sun and the Wind destroying the Stones Exactly time erasing the Memory. Half-demolished and hid almost covered with send And its name there is not in no most ancient lore Like in endless sleep I'm strolling in the same Place where city was rose with its forgotten name Forever...

Submitted by The Void — Apr 26, 2025