Walking the mist by old overgrown graveyard Seeing moudly gravestones eaten by time I absorb the energy of rotten deathly ancestors Being in nowhere I caress the image of night Created naked land Without sanctities Gates of abyss are opened The nest of my Antichrist In thick silence behold grey autumnal trees I found the track to destiny and wild obsession I feel the power of primeval bloody rituals Waking ancient sleeping demons from lethargy Infinite vale of human agony Borns again the trumph of hell