I reap the tales of their death
In a million figures of gore
Of wretched ends and misery
Of quenchless slaughtery of swords
Of a doom that knew no mercy
Of a doom that knew no pity
When the dark tongues spoke in silence
To the heart of Master Qayin
I reap the tales of their death
In a million figures of gore
With the sickle of the final reaping
In the fruitful fields of thorns
Of blood that was generously spilled
On Sigil-crafted land of murder
And consumed by the endless hunger
Of Hell's ever lasting Sulphur.
This lyric was posted anonymously. Not yet confirmed by Book of Metal.
