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V3 Curse of the Undying

June 22, 2024 at 7:02 AMv3.5

[Intro - Fast, Shredding Guitar Riff] [Verse 1] In a land of shadow, under twilight’s crest, A battle raged against death’s own behest. With sword in hand, the Reaper fell, His final words, a chilling spell: “I am not your enemy, you’ll soon see.” [Pre-Chorus 1] That night the ale flowed without end, Immortal joys that would not bend. In revelry, they sang and swore, Not knowing what the dark held in store. [Chorus] Curse of the undying, a world gone mad, From jubilant nights to days so sad. A land where death had ceased to be, A realm of endless agony. [Verse 2] The drunkards laughed as they drowned in drink, No poison known from which they’d shrink. Soldiers clashed in fields blood-dried, Blades swinging free, yet none had died. [Pre-Chorus 2] Wars turned pointless, battles ceased, But peace did not bring mankind release. Nature, unbound, began to sprawl, In undying chaos, entrapped them all. [Chorus] Curse of the undying, a world gone mad, From jubilant nights to days so sad. A land where death had ceased to be, A realm of endless agony. [Bridge - Intense Guitar and Drum Solo] Forests overgrown, vines strangled tight, The sun obscured from the eternal night. Flora and fauna, unbound by fate, A world unending, sealed its own gate. [Verse 3] They raised an army, forlorn and stark, To slay the life that feared the dark. From vermin swarm to the viral plague, The sick and old, lost in the vague. [Pre-Chorus 3] No magic found, nor darkened rite, Could summon death back into the night. The Reaper’s grave, a solemn site, Their efforts vain to set things right. [Chorus] Curse of the undying, a world gone mad, From jubilant nights to days so sad. A land where death had ceased to be, A realm of endless agony. [Verse 4] As birds and beasts eclipsed the sky, Humanity’s last breath was a collective sigh. Trapped in life, an eternal bind, They mourned the Reaper, left behind. [Final Chorus] Curse of the undying, a lesson learned too late, In their hubris, they sealed their fate. With cries and whispers, they beg, undone, “O what have we wrought beneath the sun?” [Outro - Slow, Melodic Guitar Fade] In whispers low, the world does weep, In a bed of thorns, it finds no sleep. Under the undying cloak so grim, They pray for Reaper, to return to them.

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