Chapter 4 - The Hidden Puppeteer

from by Blind The Huntsmen

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Days of vivid grace and
Days of gratitude
Abound for this brave and valiant child but she

Stays in the sidelines and
Stays in the bitter shade of
Safety where her gift remains unused

Done with waiting and
Simply speculating what’s
Done in battle
Against tyranny of kings

Gone are times to pray
To play the prey
Gone are wishes for the
Times to change, it’s time to

Paint the fields (of oppression)
With crimson blood of invasive transgression

Face the time to separate
The good from shadows
By the head that bears the eyes in white

From the void in the abyss
To pastures of the earth
The white eyed child will drain their souls of plight

Planning with her guardian and
Plotting with her kind protector
Her silent inauguration into battle

Waiting for the opportune
Moment for her rise to
Valor and glory
The ink to her story

Brace for the chosen one who sees in darkness

Face the time to eradicate
The shadows from the good
By the head that bears the will to fight

From the void in the abyss
To the shores of battle
The white eyed warrior will drain their souls of plight

And has come shining through the night

The shine under the sun
Of blood of justice flares
The battle has begun
Against the shadows’ glares

Hiding past the leader’s view
She takes her place and awaits her cue
To spring to action and pull the arrow
That will show the world the tyrant’s marrow

She nocks in preparation
But behind him stands the attestation
Of a towering shadow of desperation
His master, the impersonation of hate

The root of his evil pulls on its strings
Attached to the veins of tyrannical kings
Played like a puppet, devoid of their reign
Forever in hands of the impersonation of pain

The sight of one who has lost all control
Begs the beholder for an end
Calls for the death of his poisonous soul
One much too tainted and broken to mend

The eyes of the tyrant have long since died
The fangs of the culprit dig deeper inside
This torture of souls must now desist
The stakes are too high for this arrow to be missed

It’s time to breathe, nock, pull, aim, and FIRE

The tyrant has been slain
The Huntsmen’s throne has White Eyes reign

Grace the time to celebrate
The fearless conquest
By the head that bears the crown of light

From the void in the abyss
To gates of victory
The white eyed savior has drained their souls of plight
And has come shining through the night


from White Eyes, released February 24, 2017



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Blind The Huntsmen Puebla, Mexico

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