The Black Standard

[Guitar Intro] [Instrumental Intro] [Blast beats] [Verse 1] The dawn was pale on frost-bound stone, Where humble folk had long made home. The chapel bell called soft and low, Across the fields of winter's snow. No omen stirred the barren trees, No raven broke the silent breeze. Until the hills gave back a sound— A thousand iron steps unbound. [Verse 2] They came in ranks of sable mail, With ragged cloaks and faces veiled. Their banners bore no crown of kings, But twisted runes and broken rings. No hymn of mercy crossed their lips, Only chants in ancient scripts. They marched beneath a sun gone dim, As daylight yielded unto them. [Mid-tempo guitar solo] [Chorus] [Shrieking ang high pitched screams] Raise the black standard high, Blot the stars from every sky. Leave no beacon, leave no flame, All shall fear the Master's name. Cold the wind and black the sea, None shall wake forever free. [Verse 3] The village gates were stoutly made, But iron answered oak and blade. The watchmen stood though hope had fled, Until the square ran still and dead. Fire climbed the thatched rooftops fast, Turning harvests into ash. Smoke embraced the evening air, And silence settled everywhere. The old priest knelt with folded hands, A final prayer for broken lands. His voice was lost beneath the cries, As embers climbed the darkened skies. [Verse 4] Within the ruins, shadows danced, As cloaked figures formed their trance. Around a stone of weathered age, They whispered names none dared to say. The earth seemed cold beneath their feet, The air itself forgot its heat. The wind fell still, the forest bowed, As darkness gathered like a shroud. No horned fiend rose from the flame, No monster answered to its name. Yet every heart that heard the rite Felt daylight driven from the night. [Instrumental solo] [Breakdown] [Bridge] The moon withdrew behind the cloud, The wolves refused their mournful howl. Even ravens left the sky, As the black host wandered by. [Final Chorus] [Shrieking and high pitched vocals] Raise the black standard high, Where forgotten kingdoms die. Ash to earth and hope to stone, Leave the living all alone. Though the night may claim the land, Morning waits with patient hand. [Half-step] [Outro] Now minstrels sing in ruined halls, Where ivy climbs the shattered walls. Not of the lord the raiders praised, Nor of the fear their banners raised. They sing instead of hearths once bright, Of courage standing against the night. For darkness may consume an age— But never every song upon the page