Enthralled into the dustwind

Crusaders of a lost battle

Warned by a thorn of war

Jeweled in their own blood



Yarns of fugitive elements

In distance to the thorncastle

Empire bricks thrown to the soil

Sharp and poisonous thorns



Pure it is, like defenseless spring births

Unpleased by a sudden nightfall

Turned its back on love and life

And made it all unpure



Lovesongs of the dove, seen through

Time of what he song

A messenger of the nourishing light

Were attacked of enemy ravens

So therefore, it song no more



Pearlgate servants, in the end you gather

In the clouds beyond clouds

Foundation walls of the raising temple

Prisoners of a time that was



Promised sentences long before years

Came to join the hearse that rode

And will always ride

In the hearts of them, historical plague