Luyện nghe bài hát The Twisted Nails Of Faith

{Mirror, mirror on the
not grave pleasures be my all?
For if I shall see thy be done
me the witchcraft of thy tongue}

Three Moon froze in the shadow of six
As soul passed to the grasping Styx
Clutching their trinket
blew from caves in a dissonant surge
Omens of corruption within the church
A fetid, dank oasis still clung to full

Alone as a cold altar
The castle and its
Like fairytale dominion
A widow to the peaks
reclined the Countess
Limbs from the kill

Bathed in virgin white and like the
Alive and young and
Was it the cry of a
That broke the thread of enchanted thoughts?
Of her life as a mere
As the in narrow windows caught
opened like dark eyelids on
The sigh of the woods that the wind fell

Like a weaving song
the lilt of choirs choking
Where the vengeful

To the sorceress and her channel
She swept from ebony towers at the hour of
'Neath a stars in woven sky by scars
To unbind reins that kept in canter, despair
on melancholy, fleet to sanctuary there
In nether glades tethered where idols stared

Was it the kiss of the
peopled the air with the prowess of absinthe?
Lost souls resurrection
From gods upon their plinths
Whose read of re-ascending to win
Remission from through a holocaust of sin

In a tongue in invective rectums
Over and seals, the Sorceress prayed
To death, to rend the slender
That ancient ones rise again

As swelled
The countess fell to with her dagger
As the gabbled spells
Cumming heavy roses all the way to
As sudden thunder grew
Announced two worlds
Exuding bane, came
With the of necrophiled graves
To clandestines
Who shrank from horror
the growls of mating ghouls inclined

Resplendent, in
Natal trophies torn bellies of desanctified nuns
A demon, bewigged, in scum
Prowled their circle seeking to run
An tongue upon her vulva
Where rubies smeared to alabaster
Glittered like a in the purse of a whore
Receiving sole communion from the of Christ

{If blood is what thou craves, foul
I will this witch to thee
If wouldst draw a veil for me
O'er lengthening of age and grief}

As the demon slavered foetid
And bore his prey
In talons to perpetrate
The nausea of eternal
The screaming in his grasp
Spat a curse to stain
The with the promise
That her lord at war would be slain
And she rot alone, insane

On the twisted nails of
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