Darkmoon Rising

Frostmourne

Freeze everything.
Freeze life. No more living.
Freeze death. No more dying.
Freeze love. No more feeling.
Freeze hope. No more striving.
Freeze fate. No more failing.
Freeze time. No more changing.
Freeze memory. No more mourning
For forgotten summers
Beyond the endless winter.
Freeze frost itself.
No more

Eusty, you really ought to have these published, you know.

Last Words Of Prince Arthas Menethil

My liege,
When I was born, the very forests of Lordaeron whispered
The name –
Arthas.

But I heard them tell other tales
The leaves spoke other names, reflected other faces.

A girl with an arcane sparkle in her eye
The voice of a man teaching of the light
Soldiers lined up outside a plagued town
Winged dreadlords with taunting prophecies
Innocent farmers felled by a glowing mace
Ships ablaze in a foreign, snow touched bay
A friend and a weapon lying forgotten in a cave
A hollow whinny of a faithful steed
Chitinous figures burrowing in the deep
A bloodied crown dashed to the floor
A helm throbbing with power of undeath
Twisted zombies pouring forth from gates of wrath
Frost wyrms circling a frozen spire
Allies transformed into enemies
Defeated enemies resurrected as allies
And a hunger, a hunger, an insatiable hunger...

My liege,
When I was born, the very forests of Lordaeron whispered
The names, the faces, the destiny
Daily I listened
Daily I tried to steer my future away
Daily the whispers prevailed.

Only one thing they never revealed
The rise of a dark moon over an empty throne
And a boy, broken in body, broken in soul, at its foot.

I see it now
I see it now...
There is only darkness before me...

The horse is on fire and there's no rider on the saddle
And the Stormwind sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides
And a dark wind blows
The Game Masters are corrupt
And we've looted so many epics
With the guildchat on and the curtains drawn

We're trapped in the belly of this horrible machine
And the machine is bleeding to death

The sun has fallen down
And the tooltips are all leering
And the tabards are all dead at the chests of their bearers

It went like this

The guilds tumbled in on themselves
Gnomes clutching wrenches picked through the rubble and pulled out their hair

Dalaran was beautiful on fire
All twisted towers stretching upwards
Everything washed in a thin orange haze

I said, "/kiss me, you're beautiful..
These are truly the last days"

You grabbed my hand and we fell into it
Like a daydream or a fever

We woke up one morning and fell a little further down
For sure it's the decrepit flow

I open up my guildbank
And it's full of blood

(Heavily adapted from Godspeed You! Black Emperor)

I've got my ticket for their reunion show at ATP. So excited about that.