Sinful paths to desolation The mastery of this procreation Revel with all misery To rip their hearts in agony I see the strength of my world Those I hold sacred, they should live The gate of the flesh now is closed Apocalypse is coming, we will feel Now Northern winds have come The bitter cold grab their souls Forever lurking in this place The Nightfall Deathly Symbols ills! Ceremonies at their burial grounds Oh in what wretched times we all live From grave to grave, the prayers fail The full blossom of this odious death Standing by the cemetary gate Wide awake and fully desolate And Open are the doors of the horizon Unlocked its bolts to bring their final breath I see the strength of this fog No mercy for those with no will The traits of these pestilence unleashed And to the pits we'll all reveal in pain Oh in what wretched times we all live Apocalypse is coming, we will feel...