I was dreaming of an earth
on a unwordly place,
so far, far away,
somewhere in this endless star space
With my eyes half-open and
a soul far from so called "grace",
but rather living with a hex.
My body was covered with
armor of a molten mace,
And in my hand I was holding a silver axe
Crimson wax I had on my face,
Thought, I have killed a whole fucking race
But it must have been a mirage or
my mind washed my memory away.
Dunno what else I should say...
I was there -
in a middle of a golden meadow,
with dress made of silver silk,
so long that almost it reached my bare feet.
I was early in my twenty of years old,
What would've think my pagan gods
about being so reckless and so lost,
unless they've made me believe in this?
It must have been in the middle of the night,
On a silver full-moon.
Alone, in the dark,
who was walking amongst the fields,
waking up the demons who have been left to sleep
putting to sleep the angels who have been hidden
behind the nearly golden trees
Was singing about magical places,
calling out for the fairies to come back,
calling the bears to wake up,
waiting for the wolves to show up...
Lit a fire for them and for me,
put my gown on the greeny ground
and laid down
Thought still I was an innocent girl
But the one who has denied to be the only one
who could've saved godless faces who sold her
In exchange of their filthy miserable lives.
But where are they now?
They ended up drowning in the burning waves of chaos.
It must have been so long time ago
when I was a queen of the Muldorogk
With a kingdom and a beautiful land
created by those whose faith & power
reached levels far beyond and distant
to those of the human, unimaginable mind.
I ruled and I served as one goddess to another ones,
Living in peace and in wars
My people were a fighters,
a true warriors I would say,
they chose me to lead them through
the stone sun just to reach out the brightest moon...