Many years has passed now, since the treason came before us

People are suffering still, breathing fear

And it comes from within, agony brings them to despair, seeks vengeance upon those who started the fall

None speaks the treason, silence feasting on hearts so frail

Families plundered, families slain

Once lush and prospering, now desert meadows and vast land fields

A war swiftly passed but the remnants were cursed...

Ignorance burn and plague rests, suffer engaged the reaper bow

They bear, in fear, out here

Death comes out of there!

A pale hooded figure stepped through the odour, simply walking away

No more feeding from outstretched hands or promises

This hooded creature were born to a slave, a circumstance he rejects

Fathers and fathers of dead generations, all born the same...

Utter curses of pestering silence

This son will not take it no more

Mediating with inner turmoil

What in hell is this conscience for?

Temptations are fed through the heart, screaming at peace, screaming out harshly of lure

Was really this meaningless life meant for me?

A fire in his eyes as dark as disguise

This son will not take it no more

Reverence for fathers and time that has gone

What in hell is this conscience for?

Leaving his family oathed to a blood feud for fathers and fathers of dead generations

Imbued with will, setting his feet for the road...