Tonight I mourn the loss of heart and soul. The path is taken. The curse, received. Dark and barren is the winter night. Shadows move along the tree line. A life is cleansed in blood. Cleansed by these guilt hands. Purged in a hollow soul. Scorched and punished. At the harbor I waited. Kept an eye on the Baltic Sea. Across these eastern waters a country of filth and dirt. I damn this forsaken land. Still the moon is looming low.