A cold wind of life arises in the morning sun the peace of those who are not anymore is in the air the pain of the night seems to be overcome the wailing of the haunted souls has died away And when dusk begins to dawn My blood freezes and my body trembles I know the night will break in The desperate howling will never cease, never cease The Twittering of birds in the distance approaches and startles me out of my anxious thoughts and instead of relief a terrifying voice appears "Leave the graves before your soul belongs to us" "Crawl on your knees, beg us for forgiveness And make yourself our subject Before the heat of our rage will make you burn" The book of seven seals is drowning in crimson blood the deadlands tremble and start to awake the sleepy graves turn into a ferocious beast with deadly sense and raging temper