At the howling winds of the dying autumn, in the somber hours of the day.
When the concerned clarity begins to vanish between the stormy
clouds, going down through the hills, marked by its unhonoured past.

By the destruction of thy realm, thy life and the punishment...
From the miserable penury to the hate of vengeance.
When, at the end of long months of wandering though desolated ways.

Encountered the ruins of what was once a majestic reign of lust and power.
Encountered the psychotic tower whose porthole windows was
crossed by the wind, which whispered omens of horror and fright.
Memories of sadness and hate arived with the mournful gray
night, by the destruction around from the fury only debris was
remained.
Which strengthen the eyes of vengeance
Before the first gleam of dawn.

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