Thirst

Next night will come

Thirst
Northern wind whispears blasphemous words of prayers
Circle of monks is singing glorious psalm
In thirteen arms chandelier black candles are lighting
Their shining harbringer a day of battle

Frostly wind brings sound of murderous fights
Northern warriors are rising their swords
There are sounds of tortures between flames
Death is triumph and his shadow

We have to destroy this race of fools
Spit on their own blood
let fire and sword destroy their orders
Our victory will bring darkness

Walking on a large battlefield
Sowed with dead bodies
I can see dead bodies of my brothers
Their sacrifice brought victory

Next night will come tomorrow for forge new axes
And next crusade will bring the call of revenge again
Villages will burn, blood will being shed-fire, massacre
And evil moonlight will mark the end of the revenge

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