Circle of the Tyrants

After the battle is over
 And the sands drunken the blood
 All what there remains
 Is the bitterness of delusion
 The immortality of the gods
 Sits at their side
 As they leave the walls behind
 To reach the jewels gleam
 The days have come
 When the steel will rule
 And upon his head
 A crown of gold
 Your hand wields the might
 The tyrant's the precursor
 You carry the will
 As the morning is near
 I sing the ballads
 Of victory and defeat
 I hear the tales
 Of frozen mystery
 The new kingdoms rise
 By the circle of the tyrants
 In the land of darkness
 The warrior, That was me
 Grotesque glory
 None will ever see them fall
 And hunts and war
 Are like everlasting shadows
 Where the winds cannot reach
 The tyrant's might was born
 And often I look back
 With tears in my eyes
 Grotesque glory
 None will ever see them fall
 And hunts and wars