Ancienthorn
The Seeds Of Unsacred Apocalypse
Tears of God falling on Earth, but no blessings can wash it´s putrid will. To destroy the human fate The Lord of Plagues and Guilt... will not tolerate this lightful weak. God must reply the eternal question, and make a sorrowful pray... in solitude. My arms are endless strength My mind is hate I rise the sword against evangelic lies Gospels of Immemorial Grief... beyond ages of torture and pain. Angels... Falling into desecration One by One... like an twisted army of worms eating the limbs of Christ. With sin in their eyes, and the rised banner of the greatest magnificence of unholy rottenness. Seven seeds lies under the ancient profane ground, awating for the coming of an unsacred throne. The seeds of the unsacred Lord
From Letras Mania