New Scaring Senses کے بول

Drowning in those waves of smoke Which summits stand out like living roots I feel them seizing me, wrapping me up, devouring me. Here. They come, on and on, like plants born of satanic seeds Cultivated in the Pandemonium, They're going through the ground as if it did not exist, Sprayed with innocent blood, They proliferate in the void of subconscious. As some of us are still resisting Your strategy changes and liquefying, You blend in with the red fluid, Destroying our senses, creating new ones, unknown and scaring, Taking us further On until we give in The ranks of the ancients Decrease while those of The novices swell Perpetuating The truest forbidden Tradition in your name. Blanche fum?e envo?tante, Que nos id?es pourrissent par ton pouvoir intense Combattue par la horde d?risoire des vengeurs de nos ?mes d?sincarn?es.