A whispering wind blows mournful over the scorched plains

Unnoticed by the ignorant masses the end has begun

Will the praised new leader be as foolish as his precursor

And will he gather total mischief around him to spread out?



Let this winter of our discontent be over

Finish the cruelty and embrace another day

Will we stay or are we condemned to fall?



A long awaited decision is about to be pronounced

Fate has been stressed for an awful long time

The judge of dusk stays back in preposterous rapture

He nourishes himself from solitude he likes to share



The whispering wind swells to a grinding roar

For the final battle they start to prepare

All hopes are torn apart by grim morbidity

The path to "hell" is paved with so many bad intentions



The winter of our discontent will never be over

Embrace the cruelty, let this be the last day

I want to fall, and you will too...





("The Winter Of Our Discontent")