From The Arcane Mists Of Prophecy

Seven suns light the sky
Our time has come, at last we ride.

In days when arcane magicks ripped apart the ancient sky
And mighty tyrants ruled with sorcery and steel
Where vast barbaric hordes rode out on cursed battlefields
And spilled each others' blood with chaos in their hearts
Seven suns shall rise in an endless desert sky.

Across these ancient paths we ride
We feel a sorrow deep inside
Reclaim the fire in our minds
And raise our fists against the sky.

The hourglass proclaims the death of ages come to pass
Forgotten sagas fade to grey mythology
Now steel and honor and usurped by cold complacency
And battles born within the vile womb of avarice
Seven suns shall rise in an endless desert sky.

So from the depths of ancient ages, beneath the sun-scorched sand
An evil with no name awaits to claim the land again
And so we wait with bated breath for the rising of the seventh sun
To break the chains of our entombment
The dawn of battle comes.

Beyond these walls of sand and time, bells of destiny shall chime
Out of the arcane mists of prophecy the guardians will rise
From an age of sword and shield and distant war-torn battlefield
We have returned to serve this dying realm with sorcery and steel.

Across these ancient paths we ride
We feel a sorrow deep inside
Reclaim the fire in our minds
And raise our fists against the sky.

All that once was, all you believed was owed to you
Has been shattered and destroyed and now at last you understand
Your redemption has come at a cost and we won't weep for what you've lost
So as our words fade into the star-filled sky
You must repent, you must reclaim.