Chaos will spread, wreaking mayhem and ruin.
Accept your fate, or lie, pretend; Death collects you in the End.

Fettered creatures dance about. Might within, from force without.
When fear is dead, there is no blaze. Fire dances with those who doubt.

Frost and thunder, stars shine bright, Ruin walks the land tonight.
By our hands they dance and bend; wield their might and brook no end.

A mighty bulwark, curved and strong. A dauntless will against the throng.
Yet Order and woe hence knocked aside, for rout of foe, for turn of tide.

To cease the flow of blood is to choke the rain in the very clouds;
An empty cup, full of promise.

Strange eyes perched on top of spines, gaze beyond the veil of time.
They will raze what we shall reap; a dance of Oblivion and dying Prime.

That which was broken may yet break,
We summon thee Pyradius! From song, awake!


Penned by my hand on the 18th of Miraman, in the year 941 AF.