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The General by Alex Fischer

Funeral pyres, funeral pyres burning through the flesh
Burnt corpses sit on the stakes of wood
As birds of prey feed ‘pon them
Burning flames, living flesh crawls upon my skin
Smoke is rising in the distanced wind
From whence The General's body was engulfed in flame

Burning Earth, in its girth
None shall escape the raining flames
Where is peace when no hope remains?
Its ashes are buried with the people slain
From whence The General's army came

New found bodies splatter the plains
No one knows their very own names
As they burn in the heavenly flames
Purifying their souls of the sin that was tame
From whence The General’s vengeance was born again

Screaming flesh, burning alive
Dying slowly they'll all die
Feel the prickling on your skin
As the flames eat up your sin
From whence The General's wrath is thin

Funeral pyres, funeral pyres are burning ever all the while
While birds of prey feed and smile
Snatching eyes and pulling flesh
From the burning corpse of death
From whence The General's duty is made fresh

Flames fly high
Into the burning night sky
Even the moon burns red
As the flames burn the living and the dead
From whence The General's fury became

Smells of burning flesh dominate the breeze
As an Army of darkness roams through the trees
Will light ever rise again
Over the dark and shadow’d land?
For once The General's power is lame

The Army of Darkness feeds the pyres
As people die at the hands of the fires
What kind of plan as he conspired?
None of these men shall transpire
From whence The General’s hate remains and inspires

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