Luyện nghe bài hát The Warren of Snares

We can account for the in our sides,
Yet we are not privy to the thoughts we discard.
Those who break us nurture our despair.
But still we cherish who we revile.
We this battle in our fortitude,
The war of yet to be resolved.

We the font from which we sup,
Bit upon the nape of our chaste and drew blood.
Take refuge in our commune, orphans, souls.
Scrawled identities, of our consecration.

Is this our dowry, the sorrow of our
Do we inflict our with the horrors of our past?
We use imperfections as markers vestige points.
We have so to gain, so little left to loose.

Lay bare this soil, a ambit,
Borders bound by hraka.
Towers of carve out tracks,
in two by careless hands.

The is rife, the harbinger,
It clings to us Efrafa.
Homba, and Yonil,
It like vomit within us all.

The weakening spread out in ares,
The urge to flee, engulfs.
Our are raised in unison.
Brandished tools, skin.

Cut away, like so meat,
We forged new scars ill repute,
We on tight to one another.
I am for we are many.