Lost Horizons Of Wisdom

From the mist evolved the face as old as the soil itself
The emperor time yearning inwardly for the fallen realms
Deplore what once the pillars were of monuments now gone
To the skies I raise my summons of the cancelled ones
The ancient woods joined the choir of bemoaning shades
The oldest oak bent before the blood from earth’s entrails
Scattered funeral stars as thousand shrines of fallen glory
Thirst of the herd has forced the noble souls into mourning
The elders exiled to sail the immerse seas
Towards the cold vast caverns of retirement
On bereaved hills the gleaming advance temples grew
Yet mouldering straightways as ours never did
A dissolution overture proceeds
Clear within hearing in the darkening halls
Hateful scent announces the final
Approaching of grim death’s harvest
Frayed banners risen
Heralds of descension of the evening mist
The ancient forestland wells of wise lure
Once overwhelmed by the giant boulders
Emerge in the night’s afterglow as a tide of might
Rebirth of heathen hammers
A precious guest for a lost wisdom
Honour, strength, the disturbing swords of compassion failure
Spirit, pride, the phantoms of shallow inferior infamy
Could the sea turn abounding in springs
For the rivers flowing towards their wells
Thus regain the empires bygone of long
Even unveil the horizon heretofore lost