Creation - Countess

Ere dawn of man His power great

Wrought armour strong and grievous hate

To welcome mortal life on earth

When last the dust of time giveth birth

To His ill-will to bend their ways

To shape their doom!

To lead astray the children fair

Formed by Creator’s hands

For in the North 'neath hills of stone

In caverns black was made a throne

By fires illuminated underground

That winds of ice with moaning sound

Made flare and flicker in dark smoke;

A place that mortals feared and choked

A place that mortals feared and choked

When shadowed by His ghastly claw

Lo!

Wisdom dark doth have the few

Who dare listen to His tune

Afore His throne

His servants ever shalt they be

To share His fate yet never to be free

Alas, no thrall doth dwell within these endless halls

The wish to rule has brought them forth

Shapeth they are the chosen few

To spread the word, to rule a world anew

A vast design brewed in His evil lair

A bane o’er God’s own children fair!

For their master to gaze on in utter woe

The wrath and power of his hidden foe

To bring creation to a fiery end!

To a fiery end!