Little dead bertha

Sentence of suffering

Little dead bertha
When the sun as smouldering cool
At last time arise on sky
Ancient gods from a chaos gone
Appears as an sentence of suffering

Time destroy the stones
Wiping off from face of ground a nations
And turning into ashes their bones
This again repeat...

Death run to you in fire of storm
Evil recieve its other form
My way's the end and my soul is breaking
Horror...
Dismay...

But even time have the end
Emptiness kill the time
And powerful death is dying
In that instant when seize her last sacrifice...

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