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Centuries in marshes, infested in the exoskeltons |
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Lies the elder wyrm, watching and awaiting the moment |
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A huge form, covered in the blackest scales |
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With claws like scimitars and fangs like spears |
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Eyes like two fullmoons |
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The Onyx Dragon will awake |
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With a single slide, in dismal waters |
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Poisoning, and deciding the fate of all |
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Ancient wisdom of the Ophis |
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Circular movements of time |
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And the fate of the world |
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That was built upon |
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Two cosmic reptiles |
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Their cyclic embrace that shields Cosmos |
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They love and hate each other |
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As mortals, hate and love themselves |
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The night that it will abandon, it's slithering domain |
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Then it will leave liquid Earth |
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Flying above to the unworldly dome |
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And with a swing of its feathered tail, and with a hiss |
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It will make the silver chords, the state of all |
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And the astral wind that blows |
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To ever-know its cosmic hate |
