tackt i ett monster sprackligt
som svartnade faror vid klippans kant
vredens ande mina ogon bestankt
valdets vasen mitt sinne nu drankt
marken tacks av stumpande doda
backar nu bli en vansinneflod
fangslas med bojor av stal
da hornens ton till drabbning kalla
covered in patterns of bursts
that blacken the furrows in the edges of rocks
the spirit of wrath sprinkles on my eyes
the being of violence drowns my soul
feast on the life's elixir
a blodstorm sprays into the sludge of the battleground
the ground becomes covered in mutilated dead
brooks become streams of madness
in an extasy of enemy blood
enthralled in shackles of steel
then the sound of horns will answer the fight