Passing my way through the realms yet again, now in a shape I don't know.
Using the pass for dead angels, I'm starting to feel on my own.
Surface in ruins I barely believe, once living, now turned into stone.
A shimmer of light barely seeps through, and they were cursed!
Form me a sense of what is real, my body, tormented, faltering.
All these scars I bear cannot heal.
My suffer in life, their dream
Starting to feel again.
But my senses grow fear, I'm not mortal yet here.
Greeting the elders, now council of vengeance, arming for war!
I take my blade and scour the fear, as we stride through the calm!
So serene life is viewed through your eyes when you're dead!
Once lushious and green, the waters they usually gleem from the sunfired sky.
Soulslain and scarred I rise from the hatred, as I'm back on the fields... Ravenfields!!
To once again witness the clash, as both evil and good interfere.
Marked by the hatred and led by the light.
Nature stopped breeding out here.
Scholars they fear that the life as we know it will cease.
As a chosen by the counsil of Deadlands
As an angel I guard all their dreams.
An angel leads the human band from the curse they are in, back into their native land
Ravenfields filled with mourning cries, dancing their way through the mist.
To pulsing drums and burning rage
Blades devours flesh and bone
Seek the heathen lord for remedy
But nowhere to be found is he
Our angel downing war bands alone and the battle seems to favour the light
And they press on for better or for worse, lifting the curse...