Prophecy
I speak of the living, I speak of the dead.
The army of demons that answered the call,
Shall once again rise and once again fall.
I speak of the things that I see with my eyes,
That most cannot see through the circle of lies.
The wielders of fire and bringers of death
Shall kill all the ones who don’t follow their path.
I speak of the things that I hear with my ear.
I sense something evil: that something draws near.
To its wicked will the whole planet shall bend.
Our civilization shall come to an end.
But seeing our pain and hearing our cries,
A hero from out of nowhere will rise.
Unknown his forefathers and secret his birth,
He shall be the one to bring peace to our Earth.
The first one to battle, to pick up the sword,
He shall spare none of the devilish horde.
A gift from the heavens, the bringer of light,
The one who was destined to stand up and fight.
He’ll lead our armies and win our war,
So we can live freely forever once more.
The warrior-king who is noble and bold,
Shall bring back destruction that I will behold.
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