segunda-feira, 6 de maio de 2013

Creator Widows

Creator Widows

The night begs the creator of widows
darkness claims the ninth circle of hell
my armor is the dark shadow of widows
waiting for the mist dark winter

voices of the incarnation in certain death
mastruço devastating rain and blood
My black earth knocks on your door open
his baptism of fire in my blood

fencing languages ​​living and dead
summoning the foil Redeemer
My Empire bleak wilderness and no doors
crossroads leading voices of the blood of love

limbo burned on the way to the gallows
some rope smelling skin
I wish the Maltese cross massive hollow
my thirst superstar heats your skin.

Arthur Nett

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