The Coming

Upon the sounding of the seventh trumpet’s tone,

A false prayer is answered, made flesh the devil’s own.

The Wicked One shall rise to sovereign o’er the land,

And a guise of peace will cloak him-this reaper of man.

Destined for greatness, with power to rule,

He shall hurl the damned into the dead pool.

The shadows will laugh, the raven will sing,

And Light shall die before the Evil King.