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[History of Autaxia is marked with pain

We prayed to the skies, although they never replied

We served our masters, although they deprived us of hope

Centuries of suffering have taught us one thing - to believe only in yourself]

In ancient times we prayed to The Gods, the Absolute, the Keepers of imperfect and infirm, who's suffering will be rewarded after the last breath

Then later came the shadow from east, inhuman tribes enforcing their dominance over us, the unprepared ones, philosophes and mystics that never bared an arm

Demeaned to a thing in someone hand, not worth of a voice, not worth of a basic right to decide about my fate. Oh Gods, why your grace can't reach the realm of our life?

No providence for us - defenseless once

Lured by a dream of eternal deliverance

Faith slowly died as they broke our souls

Now only we can save us from their ruthless claws

Forged by the whip, forged by their ruthlessness

No more a helpless ghost, I have become my own God!

It's time of fire and blood, time of the martyrs and the braves

Let the flame of our faith cleanse this land from cardinal sin!

Crush the monuments, crush the order enforced on us

Give them their medicine, the pain we endured will be the absolution!

Millions will die from famine and from blades

No funeral pyres for the uncivilized slaves

The pain will make us stronger, will sanctify our cause

Martyriums will be the pillar of our new faith

Our faith!