Ride of Prophecy
The sun reclaims its glowing throne
The dawning light shines on the holy desert
Eternal gale of sand and stone
Shrouds the tracks we carve in the dirt

Abandoned echoes of an age that died
Ring out through this arid plain
Pounding hooves stamp the land cracked and dried
And plunge through the fiery bane

Biting wind rolls down from high
Wayward earth quakes from beneath
Torrent of grit roaring from purple sky
A lonely god’s anger unleashed

Battered with hermetic dread
Slaves of isolation drawing near
I feel a force, a prophetic godhead
It warms the air, to thaw my fear

A man born from an ancient rite
With eyes of silver moonlight
A hand of swiftness and of ruin
Wisdom of the seers is proven