Souls of infidel men
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Is a fertile soul
|
Like dusky forest grow
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On fallen leaves
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We draw the essence of mortal weakness
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Holyness - The worst gift of light
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Is long dead and gone
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Buried by our sisters ages ago
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Whilst the sun rapes the day
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Grow borns below
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Armoured and strengthened
|
Are the sons of the moon
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And not blood keeps us alive
|
Souls of infidel men
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Flow through our veins
|
One last silent scream
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One last breath
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The moment we appear from the shadows
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To inhale another soul
|
Of an infidel man..
|
|
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Soil of Souls
|
| Abigor |
