In The Throes Of Apocalypse

Shadows rushing in the sky like fanatical riders
Winds are beating strong down on our lands…
No one ought to offend against the majestic nature
You know how terrible her war hymn can be!

Shadows rushing in the sky like fanatical riders
Beginning a crazy run against all existence…
Drinking light and swallowing up in a smoke patch the screams of the repented
Inside of you burns the guilty feeling not having been able to tame her
Soon the walls will fall down…
And from her womb, the ultimate sigh…

Clamours arising from red-glowing plains
While breaking off this deadly silence
All you have been creating will disappear from her infallible soul.

Winds beating down on a weird purifying blaze.

Facing the power of the time being, all past fades away.

You bend yourself, you can’t avoid her judgement
Waters awakening from longstanding sleep flood over
The land stakes of dissension, where innocent rotting bodies are lying, secretly bound to
A dreadful master.

So goes on the deadly dance only wearing another costume
You bred your own torturer but she’s been ahead!
The more you will curse each of her whims, the more you will not
Help yourself but yielding to her furor.

Excited by the lust for power and cruelty
You made a servant of the weakest one by setting up your reign of pain
Your tears will wash away in vain the lands your folly stained
Your body’s shaken with fear
Now your look reveals your true nature.