With True Faith

Something's approaching and staying in silence
You tell your story for you know he's your sentence
But what would you say by right of last words?
Blinded and crippled, broken, mute among fake truths.

Your splints are splitting up slowly
Your torn wings will break
Your splints are splitting up slowly
Your dead dreams will fade.

And who is this to join you in the bloodbath?
Who will be your leader through the sea of the dead?
He will be the fourth rider, grim death for sure
You ride beside its pale horse with everything that were.

Your splints are splitting up slowly
Your torn wings will break
Your splints are splitting up slowly
Your dead dreams will fade.

You die with righteousness as you should have died
Gladly entering Valhalla, though the cross took your pride
Your last rune is graved into your body
Your last rune will burn churches cruelly
Your last sigh drowns in the sea of blood..