Fear my name, in the dead of the night for I am reborn of flame.
You will feel my wrath, I will destroy all things that lay in my path
It’s raining relentlessly, and the last little flickering flame which I kindled and cared for so dearly is beginning to wither and fade. Now here I tend, in darkness. Scrawling onto tattered pages you once held so close. Sleep has overtaken us, and if it weren’t for these binds I would float away.
Fear my name, In the dead of the night.
My burden is bound by tales I wrote, these have been the Chronicles of Woe.
Burn down the forests. No longer are they my home.
Morrow, you cursed them, or so it reads in the Chronicles of Woe.
Now feel my wrath.
Tear down the skies.
Feel my wrath, my hatred engulfs me, destroying your dreams.
Feel my wrath, I’ll bide my time and burn you alive.
Feel my wrath. My vengeance shall be swift, at my burning hand,
The flames from my fingertips dwindle and cheer, at the torment of man.
Tear down the fucking skies.
Can you feel the surge of hatred from my torment.
I burdened your stories, you left for me dead and cursed the forest.
My name is forever echoed throughout the wastes, and my malevolence is eating my heart out.
Should you hear it,
Fear my name, in the dead of the night for I am reborn of flame. You will feel my wrath, I will destroy all things that lay in my path
I’ve burdened your stories, your codex of sorrow and lies.
I relinquish this duty, take back what once you kept so safe.
Fear my name, In the dead of the night.
I burden no longer the tales I wrote, take of me these Chronicles of Woe.
Burn down the forests. No longer are they my home.
Morrow, you cursed them, or so it reads in the Chronicles of Woe.
Fear my name, In the dead of the night.
I burden no longer the tales I wrote, take of me these Chronicles of Woe.
Fear my name, In the dead of the night.
I burden no longer the tales I wrote.
These are the Chronicles of Woe.