Acheron

Dark old fumes and rituals
To clean the pain of my soul

With fire and hate
That burn my skull in their dance

Sacred death and sacred oblivion
Will cover us, horrid mantle

Wandering
Across the mountains of madness
The fog and the wind
Are witnesses, of our dark decay

There upon the dark river
That flows, and broughts us
To the green swamps
That will swallow our dreams
For centuries
Corpses and ashes

Cover the fields
Wails and regrets
Of vengeance and agony

The wind howls
Through the mountains of madness
Roaring, shakes my being

Stronger my will
Weaker than ever my life
Death shall come
As it was written
It was deserved
With fire and hate
That burn my skull in their dance