A Tousand Stones

With words that weigh a thousand stones
And axes cleave through mortal bones
Wise men follow the black-bird’s call
That echo through the ancient halls

Banquets rot in the halls of kings
Empires sink as warriors sing
Scepters clasped in bloody hands
Oceans swallow holy lands

Villages in the distance burn
Black smoke rises out from the earth
And while men speak from altars high
Carrion crows gather in the sky

On mortal ears rest elders lore
As bodies wash upon the shore
Their lamentations, their final songs
The aftermath of silver tongues