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Walking the mist by old overgrown graveyard

Seeing moudly gravestones eaten by time

I absorb the energy of rotten deathly ancestors

Being in nowhere I caress the image of night

Created naked land

Without sanctities

Gates of abyss are opened

The nest of my Antichrist

In thick silence behold grey autumnal trees

I found the track to destiny and wild obsession

I feel the power of primeval bloody rituals

Waking ancient sleeping demons from lethargy

Infinite vale of human agony

Borns again the trumph of hell