Storm Of The Ancient Wrath

Thousand of warriors sleeping behind this black mountains
Under the frozen dark earth for many damned dungeon centuries
Hungry and far from battlefields, the hordes of anatolian abyss
The ancient barbarians are preparing for the bloody glory
Attack!

Our graves guarded by the black demons and wolves
Our wrath is growing by the enchant of wars
When thunder flashes our rotten faces appear
Grimly and cold then suddenly disappear

Listen! You’ll hear our coming when storms grimly blowing
Behold! You’ll see our victory, just unleashed from dismal purgatory
The horde knelt before my horde and cried for mercy
This is the wrath of eternal holocaust and we forgot it’s meaning
Only hate is flaming inside

Breathing demons inside and waiting for the great day of conquest
Bloodbath with the blood of the horde in battlefield
And proudly roar
The mighty sign of hell is signed on our black hearts
The power of wrath is filled our veins
When darkness grows, barbarian horde roars

Wrathfully calls to war with horns
Hear! You’ll feel our blasphemic breath, when darkness grimly suffocate
We are chosen by the damned ones, wrath is coming from the ancient times
Blasphemic anatolian graves are ready for the war
And waiting for to see the mosques in holocaust and blind the eyes
With their smoke