Feeling The Ancient Hordes Of The Abyss

The moon calls the sovereignty of queen night
Escorted by souls bringing the bright of stars
Stroked by the wind I feel the damp night air
Bringing the melancholy of the desire

The horizon is the minimum vision from a demon
Throughout the centuries, wisdom and patience
By the fire, the mourning for the lost warriors
Culture's noblemen, killed by the ignorance

Magic followers guided by illuminated angel
Lord of science, truthful is his expression
Father of the past, present and future
King of Dimensions

For the crow that flies through death
And chants the words of my bastard father
The ice that dries um heart up

And divides the space
With the heat which feeds my hatred
My hatred thod was explicit
In a solitude ...
Between the science
Between the shadows