Doomsday Bell

Darkening days arise in the twilight’s gleam,

overstepping boundaries before the fall of light.

Counting down the end,

reign with a regretful heart.

Undeniable regret hinders the wise,

clothed in black and amethyst cloaks.

These hell bound assassins have no earthly home,

hours rest in palms of the prophecies.

Find the riddle for this bleak answer,

Bathing in the mirror like a flame for a lost dream.

The king has fallen,

opening the gates for invasion.

Betray the monarchy for a golden coin,

Death spreads her silver wings forth.

Unearthed a sleeping army,

built from millions of accursed souls.

Gathering mists,

clouds of vanity lift the sons to hell’s fury.

A father among the slain,

hysteria settles in the mind.

Violent struggles,

demons pour the blood of man on the “purified” altar.

Sleep without remorse for the dead,

a swords blade ‘Covered with Stains’

blood penetrates the heart of the churches.

Internal wounds lock the will to survival,

harvest the flesh from the castle keep.

Swarming around the brave,

a godly knight falls on his dagger.

Horror is beyond comprehension,

the Doomsday Bell has rung.