When worlds were in state of merging
and black holes stood behind to feed,
in long forgotten age of purging
a hero rose in times of need.
In age where matter quickly changed
from smoky gas to liquid fountains,
a newborn plane rose widely ranged,
rich in heavy particles of mountains.
Since the space originated,
elements, colliding, merging,
ignited and incinerated,
from one to other form converging,
Gather ’round, lads, Eyepoe here,
tonight’s the night of ocean story.
What I’ve seen through my career
will question your pursuit for glory.
Have you ever heard, my lad,
about a land without a land –
a fortress of clouds with spirit crowds,
unknown to rock, soil and sand.
Of times ethereal,
when space was filled with gassy droughts
and planes material
were only fetus within clouds
>Friendly tip: click on the blue text to reveal its actual sound from the game from where I used the reference. If you stumble upon something dark in the end, just mark the text to reveal it, hehe.
Greetings, child, are you feeling lost?
Kumungu jungle is an eerie host.
Watch your step; you walk among plants
who perceive you as something less than mere ants.
You see, we do hunger, striving and starving,
patiently waiting for folks like you, darling,
to fall in the Stranglethorn trap unsuspecting,
foolishly laws of the wildlife neglecting.
Dinner is served and you are the main course,
running is futile; surrender your life force.
You are a prey who just thinks that is clever,
we will be chasing you now and forever.
Nature is sometimes tricky and vicious,
for once I embraced a sorceress delicious.
Her flesh and my vines, they somehow got merged,
a hybrid phenomena bloomed and emerged.
We are the Zyra and this land is mine!
Blood shall be splattered through my vengeful vine!
Seasons reversed: I spring as mankind mourns,
falling, I welcome you to my game of thorns.
Halls with engraved walls,
a seer’s ancient resting place –
long forsaken tomb.
Bells of consciousness in motion
stir unwavering emotion,
descending figure, purple haze
justice wrapped in pale face.
Long have we waited to pierce the veil,
slicing dreams, leaving blood-stained trail,
to the point of origin, know, we are one,
to fulfil our destiny here we have come.
Roaring symphonies of blazing wave
reached the realms of man and ghost
through every tree, house and cave,
burning with injustice most.
Buvos, The Feathers of Intelligence
Through the primeval cosmic pathways
a spirit drifted with no rest –
a being wise, able to craft rays
on journey to fulfill his quest.
Born in realm of high vibrations
where no human flesh resides,
rose a keeper of dimensions;
the spinning galaxies he rides.