There is real blood in the hell which you saw...There is a small passage waiting for you on the roads and grounds where blood flows on howling and holy milk of legionaries A silence,an broken door and corridor Unluckieness,the garbage of grave guards Bloody rivers,betrayel shadows which blood couldn't clean Pale and greedy dogs coming from darkness War machines are burning and wounding the souls Nail prints,My scream isn't exist in harrow corridors in thousand years My hating doesn't sound,until reach the victory