When the Monsters Came-
Upon a lorn night when the heavens cried, and the last of men in the shadows died, no angel lifted a holy flame— only silence fell when the monsters came.
Woe to the world, and woe to its flame— for night grew strong when the monsters came.
Their suits were woven of forgotten years, their eyes were storms wrought of mortal fears. The wind stopped dead at the sound of the name, and the earth stood still when the monsters came.
Woe to the world, and woe to its flame— for night grew strong when the monsters came.
One played the cross like an old trombone, one posted wild on a golden cell phone, and one spake curses in a serpent’s tongue, and one drank deep till the boats were sunk.
Woe to the world, and woe to its flame— for night grew strong when the monsters came.
On a moonless eve in the Doomsday’s hour, when the sky broke wide like a fallen tower, the last song rose with a dying flame— no angel answered when the monsters came.
Woe to the world, and woe to its flame— for night grew strong when the monsters came.
They tortured the cities all night and day, and drank the fire as the night turned grey. A dragon’s tail swept the nameless away, and the pentagram throne stole our hearts away.
O nyght of sorwe, O wynd of bane, O cradle of ashes, O death’s domain— they spoke un-truths no ear should hear, and I cursed them all and that monster’ game.
Woe to the world, and woe to its flame— for night grew strong when the monsters came.
In the valley deep where the cold stars sleep, they sowed their runes in the earth full deep. The mountains groaned at their dread acclaim, and the sky grew old when the monsters came.
Woe to the world, and woe to its flame— for night grew strong when the monsters came.
Woe to the world, and woe to its flame— for night grew strong when the monsters came.
