Your fear is clear
You can't elude it
It's determinate by the gods
Or by your same wielpower
Delivering honor and cult
To the dark side of life
Walking to the chapel
You'll give your long confession
I don't know who is the priest
But his face is amorfous and rotten
The only thing that in this moment matters
Is saying all the evil confession
The dark church is cool
At the yard we found a dead
All this horrifying place
Is impregnated with dirty spell

In some part of your brain
You well know who is the dead
Was a dream, isn't real
Now you, you'll die

We are in a big and a dark pentagram
When just begin again the malefic confession
You aren't with myself, with my mind
Or maybe now do you want to desert??