The Seeds of Time have long been planted,

And I wait, desperate for its conclusion,

How my soul aches with this insufferable waiting,

My blood escaping from this fresh abrasion,

My skin tearing open from unknown blades,

The flesh cut open by an abstract pain,

As the Pillars of Darkness cast forth its reign.

Why does The Gray come to chastise me?

Why does The Gray cast its suffering onto me? 

I ask only for thy release, for an end to this malice,

For I have seen enough blood to ask for thy mercy,

I beg thou, oh Heart of Gray, in the name of the Gardener,

Not to spill this precious crimson, for we have suffered enough,

I speak for the creatures of the Dead and of the Night,

To put aside this cycle of fright?

The seeds of time have long grown tall,

High to kiss the stars with passion,

But chaos has long sought this fall from grace,

By the hands of the guttural human race.