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("..And they rot, in a delicate and subtle dance, their lifes aren't more than a fleeting and insignificant sigh in the history of this land. There is no place for the weak in the natural order, just the strong and the brave will govern the Earth")

The clouds are moving in their whimsical dances

The wind sings an old song of war

The temple is shining between oil lamps

Prayers are flowing into the air

The vault in heaven is illuminated by the stars

The birds disappeared from the dead sky

Megaliths are raised to the firmament

Offerings are piled on the altar stone

Full of sculpted symbols of ancestral gods

It's stone glow under the silvery moon

Ivy bare walls keep out the enemy

No fear to the spear or sword the honor comes with us

Shamash is awaiting me in his golden throne

Terror is made for the slave

The glory accompany to the brave

Empty man lacking courage

New inhabitant of an unmarked grave

Forever the shame will pursue you

Forgotten to the eyes of the real gods

The path of the just is stained with blood

You march with bare feet on thorns

In the depths of the earth, in the highest point of the sky

You can hear the sounds of the horns of war