The Vampyre - Tribulation

Hear them calling the children of the night

The curse will last until the end of time

Enduring it for centuries through darkness and pale death

Time is an abyss prodound as a thousand nights

Mysteries from a long forgotten era

Enough in chills of rancid death

Sweeping his way like a shadow

Reaping his harvest plague

The black death

The black death

From the seed of Belial he rises

Spreading his sickening breath

From landscaves of grey

In the land of the phantoms

With a touch as cold as the night

He’s reaping his harvest plague

The black death

The black death

From the seed of Belial he rises

Spreading his sickening breath

The glowing moon

The march of rancid rats

The love to the darkness

The mysteries of the bat

Blood is the lifestream

Blood is why he kills

For he is eternal

Blood will forever still

As one with the darkness

As one with death

Devouring your flesh