Warlock
I have drunk the smelly christian blood of one thousand pregnant women
Twisted their pitiful lifes and their souls in order to burst in the nothingness
All that I touch and contemplate must slowly perish in suffering
I am the wizard born from a blazing coal
Inhabiting the tombs of the human kind
No prayer can save you, the nights are too
Black for the angels, it's pointless to flee
I see where you are in the ravens'eyes
I will shred your spirit
On your face shines the cadaveric reflection
This life breathes anguish
Soon the moon will light up the marble of your grave on which I will drop dispair flower
The shining stars of heaven dye my icy eyes
My scorn for the mortals is rocked by the angels cries
Ravens
Por el momento, a nadie le gusta este artículo
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