The argent crusader's hymn

Howling winds, crackling flame
Trembling voices curse his name
'Neath a haze of falling ashes
I weep for those he's slain

My betrothed, my weathered home
Greater loss I've never known
I have seen the face of evil
It mocks the pain I have known

Songs we sang, tales we told
But pathos memories of old
More than hate, more than vengance
Guides us as we go

To possess the warrior's strength
To destroy this wrathful king
We have vome to heal out wounds
And at last be free from this pain

Songs we sang, tales we told
But pathos memories of old
More than hate, more than vengance
Guides us as we go