Held In Hollows — Be'lakor

Through tainted mass A scourge unseen Brought three winters forth And set between

After these hundreds of years The embers and fate will collide Her rotten heart has burst And shattered through dead wood

When they drank from the earth, the end was near Tracing paths that once ran alone and pure Suffused within, the blighted decay Now snapped into dust, their splinters fall

But a tithe to the wind, his frail grasps Clawed for the moon then came undone When all hope fails in the last broken bough Her strength will be gone

Churning ash and husks in the bitter winds Crack the earth and burn the sky A wry procession of hubris Where nothing remains

But everything changes... In destruction she will create

Arising in glory, the searing gaze Crimson-handed specter of death Under the blood eye of furies Bury their feeble hearts