3. As The Murder Flies

Enclaved in strongholdsLightlessBroods a wraith not dead nor liveA restless spirit born of scornFor which no salvation lies[Curse 1]Of molten anger lying stillOf burning bark to spiteReclaim our stolen kingdomBring death to reclaim life[Curse 2]This human plague hath riddenThe wood of soul and lightA burden unforgivenA sea of endless blightLong ago a tyrant sieged the forestTearing holes both far and wideInto this sylvan world of magickForever scarring the land and sky[Curse 3]Once taken thou shalt witherOnce touched by mother nightExistence will escape you allAs the murder fliesThe tyrants army fell beneathBlack feathered ritesUnleashed by the towering majestyMisanthropicFrom mountains their numbersStole the lightThe few protesting the tyrants visionLeft through this perilous nightDrawn to the fire in the mountainMisanthropicTo join with the earthTo give their livesA sudden silence as the swarmReturned to a shrineDeep in the heart of the forestBlessed in darknessThe land now cleansedAs the murder fliesNo sound came from the villageNo torchlight lit the nightA peaceful silence blessed the landWithout a human soul in sightThe wind sang for the mountainCrows wings caressed the treesThe soil inhaled once againThe wood exhaled a chilling breeze