A cold wind of life arises in the morning sun
the peace of those who are not anymore is in the air
the pain of the night seems to be overcome
the wailing of the haunted souls has died away
And when dusk begins to dawn
My blood freezes and my body trembles
I know the night will break in
The desperate howling will never cease, never cease
The Twittering of birds in the distance approaches
and startles me out of my anxious thoughts
and instead of relief a terrifying voice appears
"Leave the graves before your soul belongs to us"
"Crawl on your knees, beg us for forgiveness
And make yourself our subject
Before the heat of our rage will make you burn"
The book of seven seals is drowning in crimson blood
the deadlands tremble and start to awake
the sleepy graves turn into a ferocious beast
with deadly sense and raging temper