In Time of The Lords
In time of the lords,
the fruit was ripening
reaping their rewards,
time was left crying.
Their children sent to die,
for an unreachable dream,
they looked to the dark sky,
spirits protested with screams.
The darkness fell,
lasting glory they seek,
where the lovers dwell,
the glorious gods weep.
On mortal hands,
where the fate lays,
with unwritten plans,
they fought and slay.
Turning the dream into desire,
everything was torn asunder,
they gather by the deadly fire,
sky pleaded with breaking thunder.
Time is but nigh spent,
victories being won in wars,
this what heaven has sent,
in the time of the lords.
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