See the plains lie ghastly silent as being frozen in time
A place of distress where evil still lies vigilant enshrined
Years that passed are now centuries and forgotten seem the fallen ones
But on lived the memories in the spirits of a battle sons
[Chorus :]
Hear the choirs
Is it the wind that brought back their cries ?
Once forged in blood by tragedy
Sharp were the thorns of crimson death
Through the air again our voices whisper and awake are now your eyes
For too long closed in slumber - but death didn't prove our demise
By ages so dark we've been sculptured as fragments of story and tales
As we haunt we are endlessly captured and shrouded in the wind that here wails
[Chorus :]
Hear the choirs
Is it the wind that brought back their cries ?
Forged in blood by tragedy
Dark were the thorns of crimson death
By ages so dark we've been sculptured as fragments of story and tales
By the place that we haunt we are captured - Against eternity we can't prevail
[Chorus :]
Hear the choirs
Is it the wind that brought back their cries ?
Forged in blood by tragedy
Dark were the thorns of crimson death.
By METALipe
A place of distress where evil still lies vigilant enshrined
Years that passed are now centuries and forgotten seem the fallen ones
But on lived the memories in the spirits of a battle sons
[Chorus :]
Hear the choirs
Is it the wind that brought back their cries ?
Once forged in blood by tragedy
Sharp were the thorns of crimson death
Through the air again our voices whisper and awake are now your eyes
For too long closed in slumber - but death didn't prove our demise
By ages so dark we've been sculptured as fragments of story and tales
As we haunt we are endlessly captured and shrouded in the wind that here wails
[Chorus :]
Hear the choirs
Is it the wind that brought back their cries ?
Forged in blood by tragedy
Dark were the thorns of crimson death
By ages so dark we've been sculptured as fragments of story and tales
By the place that we haunt we are captured - Against eternity we can't prevail
[Chorus :]
Hear the choirs
Is it the wind that brought back their cries ?
Forged in blood by tragedy
Dark were the thorns of crimson death.
By METALipe