The spearhead of resistance
Shoots through the doors of false accord
Spit on them and their temple
Shattered glass and splintered stone
This is their night of massacre
The Crescent has breathed its last
This is the march of storm and tyranny
The blighted night of your own decree
No prisoners are taken
No one is spared from this deed
Wasting in the corridors
Of forgotten history
From crooked lips, the Sacred One
Can only create perfection
Temple now aflame
Fire sprayed across their hole
Burned books and icons
They'll all be ashes tomorrow
This is their night of massacre
The Crescent has breathed its last
This is the march of storm and tyranny
The blighted night of your own decree
