Luyện nghe bài hát The Twisted Nails Of Faith

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

Three Moon dials in the shadow of six
As another soul passed to the grasping
Clutching their crucifix
Bats blew from caves in a surge
Omens of from within the church
A fetid, dank oasis still to full rebirth

Alone as a stone cold
The castle and its
Like dominion rose
A widow to the snowy
Wherein the Countess
Limbs from the kill

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

Like a siren weaving
From the lilt of choirs
Where the dead

To the sorceress and her channel
She swept from towers at the hour of Mars
'Neath a stars in sky latticed by scars
To unbind knotted reins that in canter, despair
Shod on melancholy, to sanctuary there
In nether tethered where onyx idols stared

Was it the kiss of the
That the air with the prowess of absinthe?
souls begging resurrection
From gods their forest plinths
Whose epitaphs of re-ascending to win
Remission despair through a holocaust of sin

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

As swelled
The fell to masturbating with her dagger
As the gabbled spells
heavy roses all the way to Hell
As sudden grew harangue
Announced two worlds
Exuding bane, something
the stench of necrophiled graves
To clandestines
Who shrank from glimpsing
That the growls of mating ghouls

Resplendent, in
Natal trophies from bellies of desanctified nuns
A demon, bewigged, bedight in
Prowled their circle entry to run
An arctic upon her vulva
Where rubies to alabaster thighs
Glittered a contract in the purse of a whore
Receiving communion from the body of Christ

{If blood is what craves, foul fiend
I will yield this witch to
If thou wouldst a veil for me
lengthening scars of age and grief}

As the demon foetid vows
And his prey away
In talons to perpetrate
The of eternal rape
The Sorceress in his grasp
Spat a final curse to
The Countess with the
That her lord at war would be slain
And she would rot alone,

On the nails of faith
...