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