Concept Album Track 3: The Deal

.                         Sulking through the shambles of my life
.                                                                Stumb
.                                                                           ling along the dirt-packed path.
.
.  Intoxication a temporary bliss, ever             [f     a      d       i      n      g]
.
.
. A concentration of darkness pools and coalesces up ahead.
.                                                                             This poison addles my mind. A slow rot.
. The darkness slowly melts into a dingy smoke.
.                                                                                      My bed beckons me, I’m spiralling.
. A vague shape of a man forms and its vaporous head turns to face me.
.                                                       A palpable aura of despair emanates from its being.
.
. It extends the vague formation of a “hand” and it solidifies into a wispy black body.
.                                                  I am too far gone for this – yet I grasp its claw.
.
.
.                                               VISIONS BLAZE INSIDE MY MIND, SYNAPSES FIRING.
.                   I see her lithe form, calling to me.
.                                                She is not as she once was, a mere spectre, lost.
.                   My thoughts race as she reaches out to me.
.
.
.                                           A promise from this dark mass.
.                                   My opportunity at love and happiness…
.
.
.                                           I’d accept no matter the cost.

Concept Album Track 4: The Subterfuge

.                              The ground c                              s in the distance.
.                                                       r                      e
.                                                           u              l
.                                                                m   b
.                                        A form of decay and horror rises forth,
.
.                Wearing a raiment I have pictured a thousand times before.
.                         The one who had haunted me – returned – though not as promised.
.                Tears in my eyes as her body shuffles towards mine.
.                                                 Nothing left of her, just a husk.
.
.
.            The blurred vision of a blade gently thrust into the skull as it crumples.
.
.                              A > C R A S H < thunders through the sky,
.                        Bolts of lightning slam into the mud a mile away.
.
.
.  A fissure opens and                                             the emanation of heat felt from here.
.                                      Hell hath come upon us.

Concept Album Track 5: Call To Heed

.                                                         Misery and self-disgust rise like bile.
.                                      My guts twist and turn with the crime I have committed.
. I let myself be drawn in with false hope of a sickened dream.
.
.                                                                                                      How could I be so naive?
.
.
.                         The months past since Night rose true.
.                                       To claim domain over our land.
.                                                                                                    …My fault alone.
.
.
.                            Man has tried to reign in its defence.
.                                                                   My aid was demanded, so I stand.
. My armour fastened so tightly I can hardly breath – or is that just my crushing guilt?
. The blade at my hip bleeds cold into me,
.                                                             numbing my leg as if it had already been severed.
. Contracting the taught warmth of the curved oaken bow slung over my shoulder.
. Prayers muttered by the soldiers to the Radiance,
.                                                                                   will the Eternal Fires hear our plees?
.
.           The call to arms echoes in the distance as thousands of us prepare to die.
.                                 A battle not for conquest, but survival.
.
.
.
.
.                 Soon the clash will start but there will be no victory on this day.

Concept Album Track 6: Battle Preparations

. Bleakness sinks through the cracks ground into brittle bones
.                            The marred hand limply dangling from the ramparts
.                 Blood gushing torrents from my comrades,
. My strength is far to depleted to come to their aid.
.
.                                      I watch the vile demons tear into them.
.           The only blood my weapon kissed was my own.
.                              Drearily I feel my awareness start to fade,
.                                                as crimson droplets pour from my eyes.
. Arrows coursing through the thin atmosphere,
.                                       {{{humming}}} reverently towards the aperture of life, death.
.                                          The curséd sorcerers mutter, a
.
.                                                    C                            A                                K
.                                                                 R                               C
.
.                                                                                         rings out, as their courses reverse,
.              and p            fletching deep into our own flesh.
.                         l
.                           u                                      Cries of horror ring forth
.                             n                                                     The sickening sound of
.                                g                                  men’s organs splashing into dust.
.                                  e
.
.                                           The beings of pure evil hunch over my still living corpse
.                                      In my last moments I am given a choice;
.
.
.
.
.                     Suffer at the hands of                    or                            End my suffering,
.                    this malicious creature.                                                  quick, and painless.
.
.
.                                                                     And so I roll.
.                                                    My body tumbles over the edge
.                                   Gravity tossing my body, flipping uncontrollably.
.                                                 Skull crushes into compacted dirt
.                                                              Ending it instantly.

Concept Album Track 7: The Deal Part II

.
.
.                As my awareness of my meager existence fades away.
. I see the all-to-familiar form of Sunbane taking shape.
.        Through heavy eyelids I witness his approach towards my mangled body.
.
.                 It kneels next to me and plunges wispy tendrils of darkness into my chest.
.
.                       [A BURNING LIGHT PLUNGES MY MIND INTO DARKNESS]
.
.                                                Another vision, I see her again.
.                                                                          She awaits me, held at bay by Darkness.
.                              But…its not Darkness that keeps her from me, but the Radiance.
.
.                     It keeps her from me, but Night shows me the path to my love.
.                                           I assume his role and free her so that we may be together.
.
. My body slowly fades out of existence and a murky mist lays in its place.
.
.
.                                         What had happened?
.
.
.
.                                                                                                          Who…am I?
.
.
.                      A voices rings inside my mind, I am the Sunbane, Darkness, I am Night.

Concept Album Track 8: The Cycle of Eternal Anguish

.              Night tightens, collapses, engulfs!
.              Enwrapped, we tremble, murderous fear.
.              Violence EXPLODES, expands, brightens.
.
.                       Fading…
.                                      Fading…
.                                                     Fading…
.
.                           Darkness dims, the orb of flame rises.
.                           Anger, bitter, resentment!
.                           The Night fights its oncoming death,
.
.              Looming,
.                               flames pave the ground
.               Leaving glows of luminescent thoughts.
.
.            Bereaved, deprived, the Sunbane rages,
.                 Silently, curling in its own demense.
.
.
.           Waiting…                 Waiting…                 Waiting…
.
.
.
.                  The sadistic Eternal Fires grow weaker,
.                   Vengeance, sweet Vengeance!
.
.                    Rising to power, conquer the light
.                    Surpassing the dreams of the Radiance.
.                    Once more, finally, the Sunbane reigns.
.
.       Only to occur         Again….
.                                                                  Again….
.                                                                                                 And again…

Piece 32: These Four Walls

Claws slowly clenching,
Deeper and deeper into the spinal chord
A choking gasp as a lung is punctured and the pitiful sack collapses
Like the thoughts and prayers of this wretched host
Ruptured and bleeding, slowly suffocating
Coiling the tail around the throat
Feeling the last beats of life drift aimlessly,
erratically from this corpse
A blinding flash of pain, a metallic taste left bitter on the tongue
Resurrection for mere moments,
Delaying the inevitable.
The crimson tide spewing from the gaping wound in this beings back
Torn remnants of a shirt dangling loosely
“Its wife won’t be able to mend this hole.”
A sputter, shock, sputter shock, limbs spasm, mind breaks.
Empty, empty, empty.
A glaze over the moist sacks of vitriolic fluid in its skull,
Partially residual effects of the tears,
Predominately from the last vestiges of life being squeezed from its soul.
A flicker, a slow faint rhythmic thumping, lifeless eyes, staring.
Air forced in, forced out.
Tears, not of its own creation,
Welling up inside these four vacant walls.
A sweet scent emanating nearby, but not enough to arouse this husk.
“I’m sorry there is nothing we can do. Its gone won’t be coming back.”
Giving up, the only option to stop the misery evoked by its presence.
A steady beeping hammering from the sterile machine next to form swathed in white.
Withdrawal as the beeping eeeks out and holds the serene note
And the mending lungs stop receiving air and the withered heart stops its limp song.