Luyện nghe bài hát The Pagan Swords Of Legend

Slaying souls, macabre
>From within and still
I stand alone and solemn as thy distant frey to death
And all around fore none as shall be found
Out the azrael
raven of the knell

And to my dark

Whose form too to comprehend
As rise and re-ascend
is were evenings serenades
Amidst the as gracious slaves

For my words are without
Far and well renown
Centuries of dusk in
shadows of thy shrine
Within, thy frey born of kaos in decay
shadows unto thee
A death for all to see
As infinite
The human race that never
Played thy calming heart
of terror bleeding hard
That I control thee
southward to the key
Hanging from the frail
of darkness to unveil

Where charm thy emptiness
And pierce thy tenous
That striketh through my heart
And skys, where once demons remained
As the silent breeding
hate in silouettic sky
Stained blood of an ancient slumber
With such a passionate

Of ages past and to come
Shall speak in sound and in tongues
And chanting satans hail
As darkness unto thy veil

Between in death thy spirit
>From thy pain we commit
Sleeping demons fray
From in massacre's pain
Fore art draped in sin
Amidst the shadows I have
And the silent sentinel
On battlefields where fell

Desire rekindles
Nearer than
The dying scent of death
Fore spell of I possess
That I might thy pain
to tee like dragons slain
A like song of grave
Caressing shadows, slave

Thou alone se me in this sorrow

thou art beautiful, fore thou art bright
Flashing thy splendour amidst the
canst not flee, mine shalt thou be
Of all
Thou shalt a be