Guide me, Luna, trough the darkness
Trough the land of our foes
Trough the nothing, trough the hareness
Trough the call that makes it mold

Oh, Mistress of night give eye to me
I call my will to show down there
I call what will belong to me
And enemies may take turn to flee
Not show pain

Oh, hear my call, my alone
Torn insist, not ready for this
My own head is never been fret
Born from the night`s eternity

A nameless guide, my watcher my embrace
Your mighty eyes, offense to all infirmity
Your mighty horn of dread, defeat subconscious false fright to the end

Forever be it,
Forever night martyr

Guide me, Luna, trough the darkness
Trough the land of our foes
Trough the nothing, trough the hareness
Trough the call that makes it mold

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