Will your decease to me finding another world to fight its plain, making ferocious game We were resemble to rank Are we the essence of nothing but regrets? Provoking leaders to alight, the most ached thrones that were born from woe as their oration was the most sacrosanct sacrament. As the moon came upon the sky, gold have been poured and surrounded them Pieces of moon fall into ocean Compassion was imitated. Cross suffocates our religion, coming from chaos as a beast Feeding us with an artificial mercy Our desires were nothing in compare In compare to his megrims Resist religion we don’t belong One god they profess in human form sacrament! Our realm is about to die for nothing. cross was the omen of unspoken evil, the legend of madness – the legend of woe Human genuine madnecessity Reborn Curse has supervened, eyeless adulteresses rise unnamed life, and the life Expire with first ultimate groan on lips that no one listen but hear