The Book of Blood - Tears of Martyr

Skies shift from blue to dark coal

Immense weight of avern disturbs the mind

And endless flow of pain

Wound.

which won’t stop to bleed

Highway that comes from Hell

One-way signs painted everywhere

Echoes flutter from afar

Horrid howlings strike her heart

She knows which is her fate

She will suffer, again

A canvas made of skin

Where Dead write their Stories

Pages of sadness, pages of pain

Deeply engraved

You shall not pass

For this take my flesh

I’ll comprise your Book of Blood

On every inch of my skin

Our stories must be know

See the Light from our souls

Your body may stop us now

But how many times could you be reborn?

Claws stab deeply your skin

Millions of thin Rivers scribbled in red

Your flesh won’t fall in vain

Cause you are the Art of the Dead

Skies shift from blue to dark coal

Immense weight of avern disturbs the mind

A canvas made of skin

Where Dead write their Stories

Pages of sadness, pages of pain

Deeply engraved

You shall not pass

For this take my flesh

I’ll comprise your Book of Blood

On every inch of my skin