Empire of the Rising Sun
Leaking sides of a filth I abandoned
Sheathing myself to my fortress garrisoned
Waste snaking through what's left of my good will
On and off I rode away from the wasteland off the distant hill
Encountering the ghosts of the past whispers
Devouring my thoughts my head dazed in whimper
A shield broken a sword untamed
Halos smothered and bloody fingers to blame
Hurricanes swept the grasslands clean
Storms stripping the seas of rough and lean
Waves hurrying to escape the fury of the dark night sky
To whom it may be, the ones screaming to die
Blazing fires putting ashes to the ground
The traces of disaster slaving the uncrowned
Shadows of the graves greeted the living with open arms
The cries of fear echoed the heavens with crimson scars
To whom will you run? To whom will you plead?
When the sky burns red and the kings turn to flee
To whom will it matter, whether you live to see another day
To whom will it stain, the end of a million hearts beating astray
Hail of ember melts away your eyes and ears
Your fate manifests the monster you've dreaded and feared
Glory will claw the spines of lands filled with the martyrs' blood
No escaping the howls of an outcast howling through the moonless flood
The withering final moments, savoring the jolly stride
Rode the sheathing swords that flew the banners of pride
Gliding on skulls of their fallen ones
Swore to retake the Empire of the Rising Sun
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