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The Sarcophagus
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Storm Of The Ancient Wrath
Thousand of warriors sleeping behind this black mountains.
Under the frozen dark earth for many damned dungeon centruies.
Hungry and far from battlefields,the hordes of Anatolian abyss.
The ancient barbarians are preparing for the bloody glory.
Attack!!!
Our graves guarded by the black demons and wolves.
Our wrath is growing by the enchant of wars.
When thunder flashes our rotten faces appear,
Grimly and cold then suddenly dissappear.
Listen!You'll hear our coming when storms grimly blowing.
Behold!You'll see our victory,just unleashed from dismal purgatory.
The horde knelt before my horde and cried for mercy.
This is the wrath of eternal holocaust and we forgot it's meaning.
Only hate is flaming inside.
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Breathing demons inside and waiting for the great day of conquest.
Bloodbath with the blood of the horde in battlefield,
And proudly roar.
The mighty sign of hell is signed on our black hearts.
The power of wrath is filled our veins.
When darkness grows,barbarian horde roars
Wrathfully calls to war with horns.
Hear!You'll feel our blasphemic breath,when darkness grimly suffocate.
We are choosen by the damned ones,wrath is coming from the ancient times.
Blasphemic Anatolian graves are ready for the War,
And waiting for to see the mosques in holocaust and blind the eyes
With their smoke.
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