There is real blood in the hell which you saw...There is a small passage waiting
for you on the roads and grounds where blood flows on howling and holy milk of
legionaries
A silence,an broken door and corridor
Unluckieness,the garbage
of grave guards
Bloody rivers,betrayel shadows which blood couldn't clean

Pale and greedy dogs coming from darkness
War machines are burning and
wounding the souls
Nail prints,My scream isn't exist in harrow corridors in
thousand years
My hating doesn't sound,until reach the victory