Death of the Tyrant

"The light grew old

and the hour itself reeked of pure finality..."

The air was still, breathing unease

of oblivion's glacial release

And a promise of gravecold serenity

Among the lost, the tombless few

granted a sight, a perfect view

To feast our eyes on a world scale demise

For what were we if not mere flies

upon a storm bound to arise

Set to unfold from the very womb of Time

I witnessed the Death of the Tyrant

sans fear beheld the fading light

Bereft and left for death to take us

'cross distances unseen,

To worlds beyond this ether

on the broken wings of a dream

For the hour is upon us

Cimmerian night unveiled

And all shall be redone

where past creators failed

Lay down and embrace the deathlong sleep

For time has come for this crop to be reaped