The Reaping کے بول

Death to all remnants of the wise The looming storm soon will arrive In folly we have summoned This whirlwind gathering might We go toward the dark In a willful blindness Pretending the dark clouds On the horizon will turn away Will we stay our mad course Toward this imminent storm We go in silence Hollowed out hearts Fallen asleep When will the wind tear us from dreams We go toward the dark In a willful blindness Pretending the dark clouds On the horizon will turn away Will we stay our mad course Toward this imminent storm We go in silence I'd fallen in line Asleep in between time The rolling of thunder Opened my eyes Can we turn around It's coming this way The wrath of this storm We won't escape We go toward the dark In a willful blindness Pretending the dark clouds On the horizon will turn away Will we stay our mad course Toward this imminent storm We go in silence