اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Mourning cuts deep inside
With burning blades of false pride
The anguish in the distant cries
Bleeding forth behind shut eyes
Bleeds forth through open eyes
A judgement rides the arrows head
A harvest for the wicked dead
The waters of the blood red skies
Raining down on drowning cries
Falls down on silent cries
