| Take them from us, the pitiful ones
|
| Pleading for bleak light’s return… betrayed by impending dusk
|
| Finding no solace in the deeply lowering gloom
|
| They travel the path of the condemned in silent horror
|
| Onward into the unspeakable, no savior awaits in forgiveness
|
| Lead us unto ruin, devourer of hope
|
| In night’s solemn presence
|
| The accursed procession approaches their destiny
|
| Fields in neglect; |
| unconsecrated by blood and monumental agony
|
| Behold, crosses for the dead
|
| Their distorted shadows forewarn the tragedy
|
| The lurking fear tightens with each labored breath
|
| May we curse the gods in our final hour; |
| the ones they have abandoned
|
| The dead and the dying; |
| all sought in vain their own divine rescue
|
| Begin the mortification of flesh, limbs transfixed upon wooded stakes
|
| Extinction of thy very being;
|
| Hammerfalls resound through the gently sloping hills…
|
| Burn the dead now; |
| let the ashes scatter without remembrance
|
| As those without hope, forgotten in eternity |