Gloomhammer

With the weight of a thousand suns Crashing down from the stars above An ingot of pure obsidian An ebon handle, inlaid with gold and bones As time goes on Darkness impacts with no warning Left comatose in a state of despair Devastation in the wake of calamity Singularity at the point of incursion On a night as black as pitch after the golden sun does lay A revelation, I existence in agony Walking through the daily monotony Incognizant of the impending Cataclysm of your intended regime The world warps with gravity An anomaly eclipsed In amaranthine light Upon the peak of a cold misty mountain top A victory all but assured Eyes raised in elation Black thoughts no sensation Red fills hollow sight Frost dusts an open mind A victory all but assured Eternal slumber perfumed in iron I felt like I was on top of the world Only to be razed at the crux of creation Gloomhammer