| Still a blind believe for raging memories | 
| For a forced interpretation of these fearful sceneries | 
| Creeping through the blood-soaked ruins, ethical disease | 
| For a leadership on both sides of a river flowing deep | 
| Restraining and gaining for rust and mud and blaming | 
| Revelation, cremation for whole | 
| Worlds peoples reputation | 
| They’re walking through madness and call the end | 
| An aeon of tragic and God’s descent | 
| All ended November a waxing moon | 
| And Aries guided them into doom | 
| Cold the hands and cold the hearts and brains so blunt | 
| For a basal viability and a new dawn they hunt | 
| Listening to the impacts, testimonium of pain | 
| Resting within ruined futures and the futureless to maim | 
| Explain me, obtain thee, how rich the poor one’s can be… | 
| 1813 still hurting and new fronts ruling, bursting | 
| They’re walking through madness and call the end | 
| An aeon of tragic and God’s descent | 
| All ended November a waxing moon | 
| And Aries guided them into doom | 
| So many lives sacrificed but for nothing they have died | 
| Strength to ride for a world killed by day and night | 
| It’s so many lives, a breathing sacrifice | 
| But for what they died, an uncountable price | 
| A pandemonium without a pendulum | 
| System elementum without its… cerium | 
| They’re walking through madness to be an aeon of my doom | 
| Cerium lost and gone like the reaper’s pendulum! |