Décembre Noir

Wings of Eschaton


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Rough colliding waves, forced to drown this world
By a raging bluster, in consequence of mankind's guilt
With every further second, the ocean of unrest
Slops over, over and over, certain death

Colliding waves, forced to drown 
Under the wings of eschaton 
My pleasure

I don't know how long I was yearning
For this era to come
This is the era of deliverance
I can see the void that lives inside myself
Written in every face
The void that lives inside yourself
For this era to come
I don't know how long we were yearning

Until the terminal breath in human history
Until the last pulsation lapses into silence
The wings of eschaton will whip up the sea
To drown all of us in the ocean of unrest
The autopurification of the planet is irresistible

Welcome to the long awaited end, my pleasure
The end of the human race

Rough colliding waves, forced to drown this world
By a raging bluster, in consequence of mankind's guilt
The wings of eschaton will whip up the sea


Writer/s: Sebastian Görlach