A shimmertrace of divinity lost

in the beckoning midnight vault

(We are) lulled within the wake

of a cold November's nightfall



Nightfall...



A communion of life and eternity,

of Races scattered in the depths

of the universal dark



Above us minds went sailing free

and blossomed in the vast nocturnal sea



Paragon of beauty,

Oh, spark of Creation;

We march to the rhythm of the Night



Starborn flew the Dove of Man

in the eventide of life,

whose wonders crowned

our yesterdays with light



Fire - Earth - Water - Wind



We lived beneath the waning moon of truth

And danced in hunger for the Powermind

(of Youth)



Like the dark to a dying Flame;

Sweepingly embracing its grieving remains

Defiantly blazing the black that awaits

Counting the days 'til the new Age awaits



Times' lustful cyclones arise,

Piercing the fairest of Skies

In elysian awakening of spiritual glory

we see what our history belies



Meadows of Asphodel

Burning in the hunted dawn

Tragedies die among fiery flames

as the firewood of Wisdom is sawn



Our Guardians were blind

My lightbringer ephemeral



Within the heart of all;

A cold and dusky melancholy night,

as ever sullied the fair face of light



Whose seeds of life they grind

To dust, of vapour is our mind

...evermore



Paragon of beauty,

Oh, spark of Creation;

We march to the rhythm of the Night



Nightfall by the shore of time,

a tidal wave of fire and woe

Swept away with the last of life

the core of the enigma as bestowed



Our crystal spirits melt to flow

the mountainside along

To join a