In the shadows of despair, where the remnants of hope lie,
A warlord rises, forged in darkness, beneath a blood-red sky.
With a gaze like a dagger, and a heart made of stone,
He strides through the ashes of the fallen and alone.
Relentless march, his fury beckons, burning bright as the flame,
Across the fields of sorrow, where they whispered his name.
The plague of fear surrounds him; it clings like a shroud,
But in the storm of chaos, he stands fierce and proud.
Chorus of the lost, echo through the night,
With cinders in the wind, he’s ready for the fight.
A requiem for the broken, laid to rest in the ground,
In the heart of the battle, his destiny is found.
From the ruins of a kingdom, where the silence cuts like glass,
He carries the banners of the ones who would not pass.
The forgotten spirits guide him, their screams igniting the air,
He’s a warlord of cinders, a vision born of despair.
Relentless in his vengeance, the plague will feel his wrath,
With the sword of the ancients, he carves out his path.
Through the fallen and the fractured, he seeks justice unchained,
For every soul that suffered, their memory is sustained.
As the dawn breaks bloody, the horizon starts to change,
The light reveals the carnage, a world wounded and deranged.
But the warlord smiles quietly, for he knows this is not the end,
In the ashes of the fallen, a new dawn will ascend.
Cinders fall like ashes from the fire's raging hand,
In a world torn asunder, he will reign where he stands.
Though the night may feel endless, and the pain still lingers on,
He’s the warlord of cinders, in the light of the new dawn.
Through the battles and the sorrows, the legacy remains clear,
In the hearts of the fearless, he will always be near.
With the strength of the fallen, a new empire will rise,
As the warlord of cinders lays his claim to the skies.
Metal
Warlord, cinders, plague, relentless, fallen