The Moon and Magic - Elvenking

He’s standing alone at the edge of that night

Surrounded by blaze lights

Staring the murk, distant and dense

Where stories are yet to be told

At the back of a fable they ride towards crimson winds

That blow away

Ghosts on the horizons of a story soon to begin

On the altar of oracles runes are disposed

Telling faiths and aftermaths

On a crescent-shaped moon in the dark of the woods

Magic

As the lord of a castle in black, he beholds

The abyss and the river below

The glow at the end, a shine in the night

An angel with death cold eyes

At the back of a fable they ride towards crimson winds

That blow away

Martyrs predestined to see their lights ripped apart

On the altar of oracles runes are disposed

Telling faiths and aftermaths

On a crescent-shaped moon in the dark of the woods

Magic

For the trail of tears forged by the seer

Bare, unrighteous brilliancy

Oh the moon, witness of revenant fallacies

«…Angel come to me…»

On the altar of oracles runes are disposed

Telling faiths and aftermaths

On a crescent-shaped moon in the dark of the woods

Magic

For the trail of tears forged by the seer

Bare, unrighteous brilliancy

Oh the moon, witness of revenant fallacies

«…Angel come to me…»