Stones are marked
With overwhelming darkness
The cruel cold breeze
Is the initial scene

Grim trees upon me
Calling for me
To have me buried

A dead small tomb
Reminds me of his
Reckless nonsense
Clueless bastards of god

For all the soil was made of
Pure raw nothingness
I could look inside
Of all the flesh
Yet the command stops me

I hear a mighty call
And set forth
In every encircle
I see my own doom

There is no move
Until the day
That they arise
The moon, the blood and the forest
Serve to
The unholy one

Crowned lord
Of this forest
Is buried
With shame

An old tombstone
Shined
With his flame
As Cursed
Red sign
Waged war
Against the believers

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