Dødsengel - Prince Of Ashes

The sun has dawned, yet the old night lingers. The sun has dawned, yet it eludes sight. The earth I now inherit is one of ashen dunes Haunted and inhabited by ancient sediments They speak as if they live, these broken pieces Still painting a picture of a kingdom failed and lost. Anatta, there is no core in spectres Yet they are around me and in me Their tongues are mine They are the air and wind In scorched desert storms and the dry breath The Chorus of restless voices. A king must be an exorcist Laying to rest the ghosts of ideation Banishing the mirages of dust So the sun might pierce an ashen sky.