Through the cold breaths once called: the living
Abandoned the carnal shape of mortal into light-path
Darkened by the shades, strong virtue, S.A.T.A.N. majestic
Once... forsaken man believed God, in own plague arise and fell
Where voice of yours echoes through the mist, a deaf listener awaits
And he, behold, poorly tries your words to serve, as they never appear
Once... forsaken man believed God, in own plague arise and fell
Glorifying, seeing you as highest, the trace without a reach
Yet stabbed you cry, tragically remained
Where voice of yours echoes through the mist, a deaf listener awaits
And he, behold, poorly tries your words to serve, as they never appear
