Religious Plagues - Noctem

You can now pray to the stars

The sins excite you

The hatred mar your senses

And feel the rain down on you

Getting wet your disfigured face

Crawling in the mud

You liked to play with human lives

Trapped by the Celtic moon, you can’t cry incessant suffering

Your face is the reflex of your soul

Captivated by the northern winds

In the center of the storm of swords

You will never rest in peace

Do you think that I can’t break your faith?

Sacred father bless me with your golden throne

The ancient gods are ashamed in their holy niche

An inherited world corrupted by the ignorance

Death, war, disease, hunger, this is your future