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