1. DUSKBORN

Locked in perpetual nightfall
Torn asunder by shadowland struggles
Adapted to virtues of naught
Arms stretching out, eternally searching
A dreamers painful distress
Longing for glimpses of a fate concealed
Light always fading from reach
Endlessly staring into the darkest of nights

Without the warmth of the sun
Evading, but still longing
Without the songs of the night
Bleak, shattered and lost

Duskborn … and the distance is still so much farther away
Duskborn … still the storm is coming
Duskborn

Forever in twilights embrace
There’s a thundering heart breaking
Corroded and slowly just fading
A collision of conflicting thoughts

Duskborn … and the distance is still so much farther away
Duskborn … still the storm is coming
Duskborn

A cruel trick played by time, a cruel joke on the mind
Fate hangs in the balance, the wheel ever turning

There’s no warmth in the sun
It’s all buried dreams
There’s no songs of the night
Just prayers for the lost

Duskborn … and the distance is still so much farther away
Duskborn … still the storm is coming
Duskborn


2. BITTER ASHES

Sifting through passive days
Shunning change and closing eyes
Living blind, covering in hurt
Displaying fear

Disbelief, as you rise from these ashes
Screaming out in despair - that War
War never changes

Disintegrate - yourself

Roaming through desolate thoughts
Lost focus, out of control
No escaping vulgar afflictions
Bitter ashes

Disbelief, as you rise from these ashes
Screaming out in despair – that War
War never changes

Disintegrate - yourself

Pinch...Bleed! Cut...Bleed!
Rip...Bleed! Carve...Bleed!
Just bleed!

Disintegrate!
Rise!


3. INTO THE RIFT

The plague of our memories is the face of our fears
The gaze of our nemesis is the taste of frozen tears
So we’re sinking down into the deep
And the foe draws near

Raging through the shadow dale
Each morning, just another wasted gift
Blinded by the shadow veil
In fire, uncontrolled we drift
Into the rift

The shape of our tyrant is strengthened by the night
The will of our captor devoid of contrite
And so before us is the fiend
And so we end

Raging through the shadow dale
Each morning, just another wasted gift
Blinded by the shadow veil
In fire, uncontrolled we drift
Into the rift
The rift


4. THE THING THAT SHOULD NOT BE

(Instrumental)