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Warloghe
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Fires Burn Black
Glorification of the cyclical moon
Five points to be a sign for the horns
Manifestation of the spherical flesh
Seven wounds to light the way
We sung as the hammer danced
A dream of a loathing glare
Forthright as the sun, from two burning spheres
As torrents of abhorrence, the gleam swept through
As the purest of flames
The radiance from the first and the last
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Was slaughtering everything and all
We rejoiced for we had wrought pain
The conflagration of divinity in aeons
Was brought forth in a flame from the west
A shape clad in leather wings
In the gleam of its blackened eyes
Vast fires leapt in awe of the endless torture
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