Sorrow shall follow on the Morrow.
The heart of the master is darkened by shadow,
His blackened eyes see the absence of light
The food in your mouth turns to ashes,
As will the bodies of the dead

Lament, for the well of joy has dried up
It shall be filled with tears of anguish
The happiness shall be quenched
The Spirit of hope cast into the flames of hate

And a great sadness,
Shall wash over them
Like a sea of pity,
Then they shall cry out for death

Their Doom has come,
Their Doom has come, from Zoldon