The Awakening

The weary traveller slowly moves
Through the fields of death
Along a vast and winding path
Wondering bluntly, what to do
Should he go on, wondering through?

And from the depths a stirring
A deathly pale and glowing
Beneath the earth, beyond the sight
Asleep so long, beyond the dreams
His home was ripped, straight through the seams

Unaware of his poor luck
The traveller presses on
He does not know his doubtless fate
But walk into it he does
His warning a faint buzz

Millennia it's been waiting
For the sacrifice
And now it strike, the bloodlust rise
A life extinguished
All joy diminished

And with his death, in that old field
The world is now devoid
Of hope, of joy, of love
Because arose an ancient doom,
As he is released from his tomb