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Pray for me, my mother,

call by name the ancients

farewell, hoot today for the last embrace

the remember of my father, thirsty to have his rightful revenge

the deepness i call smother, many of us are yet whit them

Enemies of this war, victims of their madness

they still ignore, what kind of army is waiting for them.

Far. Far. Far.

Sharp your best swords, there will be no mercy for you,

the last supply to the chaos, all will be useless.

Alone in silence, I look the firelight

the sound of backwash, destiny in the unconscious sleep

walking through the fields, precious gold of our effort.