In between the sword and flesh, feelings reveal the nature of man. Songs of hate of flow through our nature like water of blood.
Sounds of the last breath is the hunger of man, survive the strong. The way of the mankind thus feelings exsist, but do not show. Chosen by veins, fate does now mean what is shows, it waits but does not feel. Save what there is not, so drowned in sorrow, there is no end.
Mankind stands resolve what path to go, make your way to battle and fight. Follow to the frozen ground, choose one of the thousand trails and take a stand.


Makes a mans blood pure when noble do ,hypocrisy saves the life you enjoy. To evoke the lunacy that beholds would pain then suffer. Wake what ever it will but do not show what bones do tell.
Snow covers the time, what path thus this cover, enigma flow with the bones. The woum of blood, birth of faith, what god there is to come. Drip the drop of sorrow, into the lake of hope. So the taste may change, thus many answear so lives. Shallow be thy name.
Mankind stands resolve what path to go, make your way to battle and fight. Follow to the frozen ground, choose one of the thousand trails and take a stand.
Willing to pass, by evil to fight, is willing to godness so weakness. Show the flesh what anguish does to pain and soul. Free the anguish that the wind brings, to tell the few. Hope is weak and acting is strong, to be must show with force.