Marching of the hordes

On the rise of a new dawning
I gaze upon a pagan mass
Who cry in tones of victory
And hail their Gods in the skies
Their shields and armor are glittering
Under the heat of a heathen Sun
Their hearts race with the pride
To follow their fathers long gone

The blades of the weapons are bloody
Wet with fresh christian blood
Storming through the battlefields
For the pantheon of their Gods
They march through the fields of glory
On which they've led so many lives
They ride their steeds to new frontiers
Forever more in the night...

Ahhh... Marching of the Hordes...
Against a sky tinted crimson red
Over the blood soaked meadows
Through the ashes of the Shamanic Flames
From the Anatolian Shadows...