LYRIC
There lies a beauty behind forbidden wooden doors
A beauty so rare and pure, it would make human eyes bleed and burn…
… She killed herself in the fall…
I am the unmaker, I bring death to the beautiful dawn
With pillor, cold, and a legion of dying angels…
… I killed myself in the spring…
A grim bough had hung me high
I sank the fires of the Sol
Here, nightfall reigns
I oppose the light
I gather the storms
With a sword I wield with hate
I shot down the sun with bow and flame
Pillorian for the dead winter
I am the unmaker
The pillorian… The ending
I… Die…
I damn you the dead winters…
No comments yet