Скачать или смотреть Bodiak´s Heresy - Part 2 - 11 - He became the dawn (Gothic/Dark Fantasy/ Grimdark Music)

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Lyrics

In Telithos, dawn would not show its face,
only black clouds and cold rain in its place.
We patched the hurt on temple stone,
counted the living, short a name.
Then strangers came with a mirrored shield,
a stolen piece of summer sealed.

We waited for a pale false morn,
for any thin line night could not scorn.
If light could strike from roof and height,
we'd make a weapon out of right.

He became the dawn, let it fall,
let it burn along the tower walls.
Hold the line, hold your breath,
we buy the day with blade and death.
He became the dawn, let it stay,
and drive the hungry night away.

The palace breathed with torchlight thin,
no army there, no boots within.
A throne, a hall, and gathered sound,
fine music threaded through the rot.
A foreign lord in midnight dress,
a red stone burning at his chest.

He crossed the floor in one lost blink,
too fast for prayer, too fast to think.
He spoke in broken, shifting tone,
like two old tongues inside one throat.
We told him what the lighthouse hides,
the nameless warning carved in stone.
His eyes went dark, then flared again,
and something human tried to mend.

He turned away, then back once more,
as if his mind were split at war.
His eyes confessed: I am not whole,
and cold ran living through the dead.

We saw the chains beyond the sea,
runes in iron, vast and deep.
Not made for men, but made for fate,
to keep a greater hunger caged.
And somewhere far, beneath the storm,
metal screamed like iron torn.

A feast was set on open stone,
a table long as a ship's keel.
At the head, a smiling judge,
and silent guests who would not kneel.

They breathed again, newly made,
eyes like pits, no mercy stayed.
We begged for reason, got only teeth,
a flood of hunger underneath.
Steel rang bright, prayers tore the sky,
thunder answered every cry.

The shield slipped out, the height stole breath,
hands passed hope above the death.
A catch, a throw, a strike in time,
a lifted mirror, holy line.

He became the dawn, let it burn,
let the sun come back in its turn.
A beam like judgment, white and wide,
set shadow howling, split its pride.
He became the dawn, let it fall,
let Telithos outlive it all.

Up on the tower, stormwind roared,
and iron shrieked from far offshore.
He raised the shield with steadied hands,
and asked to be the pillar that stands.
Stone climbed his skin, calm, slow, complete,
a farewell carved in heartbeat.

Light washed the roofs, the beasts went blind,
the sea fell still, then drew a breath.
Telithos breathes, but hears it still:
the true storm has not arrived yet.

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