Lyrics
A boy raised in the dragon's hold,
Who lit the peak coal in the cold,
With glowing daggers, blue and green,
A pale bone bow of ivory sheen.
He walks beneath the forest trees,
And smells wet hide upon the breeze.
Elite and heavy, ogres tread,
Too strong to fight, he runs instead.
He slips inside a broken wall,
Where shadows wait and echoes fall.
The ogres wait beyond the stone,
He walks the ruined halls alone.
He turns to face the shadows stark,
Salvation or the dark.
The forest wet gives way to dust,
To empty rooms and iron rust.
The ogres slap the outer wall,
But cannot squeeze inside the hall.
A steady boot begins to tread,
Within the ruined rooms ahead.
A cracked crest on the quiet stair,
The Dark Citadel slumbers there.
He rests upon the dusty ground,
Without another exit found.
No third way out, the path is tied,
With enemies on either side.
He slips inside a broken wall,
Where shadows wait and echoes fall.
The ogres wait beyond the stone,
He walks the ruined halls alone.
He turns to face the shadows stark,
Salvation or the dark.
No third way out, no way to part,
Salvation or the dark.