Above the skies
Above the Stench of rotting Flesh
Thy Martyr's very certain Death
And Pride of Elders
The Horns of the primal Sin
Pierce the corrupted Bliss
"What is good?
Whatever augments the feeling of Power
What is evil?
Whatever springs from weakness"
Oh, rising Sun!
We step towards the Halls of Fame
The chosen Ones
The ones who shed the Light again
Foretell the Era of the Man.
To conquer and to renovate
My legions come,
"He who fights monsters, should look to it
That he himself does not become a Monster
For if you gaze for too long into an Abyss
The Abyss gazes back into you!
It's a painful and tragic Spectacle
That rises before me
I have drawn back the Curtain
From the Rottenness of Man"