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#gothic #gothicmetal #operametal #opera #nightwish #epica #withintemptation #therion #cradleoffilth #nuclearblast #sumerianrecords #centurymedia #theillusionist #theprestige #magician #fantasy #storytelling --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lyrics and song created and produced by @DonKaiman --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lyrics: In the quiet square of Eldenmoor, A stranger bowed beneath a hooded cloak. A coin danced lightly in his wandering palm, Whispers tangled softly through the crowd. A knowing smile, a promise half-concealed, Too gentle yet to root itself in fear. They called him Eisen Gray, the wandering dusk-born heir, A name once etched in tomes older than kings. Hark now, the stranger upon the stage… Is he but an illusionist? Or a manipulator of realities? He parts the earthly veil with quiet ease, And fear entwines the glow within his eyes. A deck of cards spread out like feathered wings, Each chosen symbol spoken from the void. A maiden rose; he lifted up her hand, Her outline split — two forms now standing there. A mirrored self no earthly truth could crown. The elders muttered rites beneath their breath, Reviving tales of powers born to feast. Hark now, the stranger upon the stage… Is he merely a conjurer? Or a shaper of realities? He parts the earthly veil with quiet ease, Where beauty calls… and darker truths expand. Ancient stones foretold his hidden face: “He is the eater of realms, the harvester of suns.” Black spheres opened like silent starving mouths, Drinking towers, forests, oceans dry. Now Harrow’s End lay trembling in the dusk, He stepped upon the dais, calm as dusk. A trembling shimmer bent the world in half; A newborn void began to breathe and swell. Its hunger older than the stars’ first light. Hark now, the stranger upon the stage… Was he but an illusionist? Or a shaper of realities? The void he summoned answered every tale, And fear consumed the watchers frozen still. And when the void had drunk the final breath, The Magus vanished into seething flame. Some whisper he ascended beyond worlds, But others swear the void still bears his shape. A silent maw that waits beyond the spire…