Classical Vibes

Memoirs of a Geisha

The Chairman's Waltz

Spirit of the Glen

Last Of The Mohicans (Album Version)

Peter Gundry - The Last Of Her Kind

Within sanctuaries as old as the rasping whisper of time itself, rumbling in the dark bowels of the earthen tombs, breathing the soil to life, They sleep. Long ago, terrible arcane magics sending the peoples of all the realms trembling in fear, They sleep. Rulers of castles grand and dancing on the line between horrifying evils and heroic deeds, They sleep. Kings of life itself, second to not even the forces of the mighty land itself, They sleep. They sleep. Sleep for good. Once gods among men, They are gone. Once the very heartbeat of our kingdoms, the pulse of enchanted souls fluttering among the spirits above, They sleep. Sleep for eternal endless time. Let them sleep. let them dream. For if the spell should snap, the prison twist away, The Chosen shall fill their lust for revenge.  

( Written by the Pirate King )

Song - We Are the Chosen © All Rights Reserved
Composed and Produced by Peter Gundry

We Are the Chosen - Peter Gundry

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