In Obsidian

Here we are
Here we stand
The first war
In this wasteland.

Hear the sounds
The March of Death
Upon command
Skies and seas run red.

The light is wasted
On all the dark
As we close in
Shrouded In Obsidian
We'll take them all, we'll
make them fall
Finally today
Hear the horizon call.

The Wind
Awoke in the shade
Breathing life
To the roots of rage
A careless gleam
Of light subdued
Guiding our way.

The moans of hate
Of this bloodborn glade
Still echo these plains
And do so in vain
We are ourselves
The hands of death
That once led us astray.

"Hear me now under this twilight sky,
as we stand on the bones of those claimed by this land!
We have been awoken beneath these stars from centuries of slumber
and now is the time to take what was once taken from us!
Now is the time for retribution!
On this, the day of repayment, let me hear you!"

It is them
They are the eldest, the wise
This is the day to sound their demise
Dead is the light within our eyes
As we've travelled a hundred warfare worlds.

The stars in our skies
Of our fathers before
Fade they did
Centuries ago.

Yet we are here
Drawing near
To bring ruin
Upon our precursors.