The hunters like to play in the night
When the sky is at its darkest
And only a faded light
Bares silhouette of their monstrosity
Hidden in the pitch black robes
Camouflaged in sheep's clothing
Ready to ****** and devour.

The preys were worshipping
A fertile god of idiocracy
Birthing the eternal twilight
In her severely defiled womb
But the hands of time spun
And a race for a new dawn
Heralded a new religion.

Now the tides have turned
And all the filth in it washed
To the shores of grand awakening
Every fool has been baptized
While the martyrs cursed their tombs
They all danced to a song of retribution
Around an inextinguishable flame.

The preys bathed in the horrors
Of their own trivial fears
And forged indomitable hearts
With blood that burns in the dark
And eyes that can see through the deceit
Wielding the weapon of truest strike
To punish the heedless wolves.