Conqueror's Mourn
In the time before death, every voice sounds the same
Every agonized breath, every choked
cry of pain
Brought on by the flashes of menacing light
Or the whispers on winds that accompany night,
To die from a spell is no great source of pride
but sometimes the shame of just being alive
Is too great for your battle drunk mind to withstand -
So when death reaches for you, you smile at its hand
... more
Streaming and Download help