In the cold depths of a great hollow of the tomb
Lays a queen, unchallenged in power or in life
Her eyes stare open, as her corpse waits anew
For words to be spoken, for curses be broken
Life returns, youthful strength pulses through
Nothing less than a full obedience are tokens
Form turns flush with blood, in eyes now true
Sitting upright, muscles so lithe and so able
Staring her servants away, she has awoken
Needing nothing but her shroud, and a pulse
In the living moment, she thinks of death
She smiles knowing, taking her last breath
For it is time to take flight, leaving behind
In meaningless dream and deleterious things
Who would interrupt her sleep, life anew
Never wake her, before she lays dreaming
For now she reaches her sleeper chamber
Where it's dark, long prior made ready
Here she returns, and her dreams burn
The spirits and emptied souls will pray
Preparing to live again in night's shroud
As her dead flesh turns gray, she lays
Sleeps her spells cast, on sacred ground
Planning her trip back, without sound
