Prophecies From The Land Of Lost Voices
by Sworn· from Bastards And Conquerors
This fire burns black onyx and cold
And shadow is its children
A plain for mirrored glass
A lone figure, a sky of white
A tear in the dimness
And only darkness beyond
This crooked path turns westwards
Adorned with a sphere of flaming stone
From the naked soil a discipline brought
Forth, thus to be learned
This discipline is the old and obsolete.
From the lands of glass
The alchemist abides the first,
The post-modern Prometheus is born.
This is truly the shadow child
The discipline of the old