<Dawn of Azazel> page <The Law Of The Strong> album page |
Conflagration Of The Mortal SoulOpen, oh bowels of the earth, conspireLay might to us this day Cornica sound, the call, the horn The intonation of intrinsic decay Metamorphose, the sword thus am I Of this law, of this will Praise be to Mars, the thrust gives no quarter Purified from that which is killed Marching in arms And the masses to expire As all past falls away Unto romanticized funeral pyre Consumed, civil atavisms smothered by crimson red Enthrone the lion, the lambs words shall lie dead With this sword, transcendence I enthrone "Vendi, Vidi, Vici", with this I slay my soul |