Gloomhammer

With the weight of a thousand suns

Crashing down from the stars above

An ingot of pure obsidian

An ebon handle, inlaid with gold and bones

As time goes on

Darkness impacts with no warning

Left comatose in a state of despair

Devastation in the wake of calamity

Singularity at the point of incursion

On a night as black as pitch after the golden sun does lay

A revelation, I existence in agony

Walking through the daily monotony

Incognizant of the impending

Cataclysm of your intended regime

The world warps with gravity

An anomaly eclipsed

In amaranthine light

Upon the peak of a cold misty mountain top

A victory all but assured

Eyes raised in elation

Black thoughts no sensation

Red fills hollow sight

Frost dusts an open mind

A victory all but assured

Eternal slumber perfumed in iron

I felt like I was on top of the world

Only to be razed at the crux of creation

Gloomhammer