Cult Of Luna Curse
Tonight I mourn the loss of heart and soul.
The path is taken,
The curse received.
Dark and barren is the winter night.
Shadows move along the tree line.
A life cleansed in blood.
Cleansed by these guilt hands.
Purged in a hollow soul.
Scorched and punished.
At the harbor I waited.
Kept an eye on the Baltic Sea.
Across these eastern waters a country of filth and dirt.
He emerged from the forest, how did he know?
I damn this forsaken land.
Still the moon is looming low.
