Witchcraft کے بول

The black angel of death Overflies our houses In search of something more Valuable than our souls It´d be the eternal Suffering on God´s earth Or would we be dreaming awake With our worst nightmare? Screams of the shades In this rotten world What would be The password to survive A pentagram traced in blood Or a scream of blasphemy? The sky is formerly ash Now is completely dark Our grief transgress our hearts And we get lost The terror is slippery among The ditches of a forgotten world No kisses or prays, no witchcraft Will save our people Don´t!