Luyện nghe bài hát Whirlwind Of Withered Blossoms

(Chapter 2 - ancestors)
Absent are the skies tend the winds...
It the enraged lands...
beyond the life bonds...
Spitting forth it's of wars...
Of wars...of wars...wars...
One's belief and shall survive this...
Search the oldest form of wisdom that has inscribed...
By the Codex itself...
One's bloom will by the whirlpool of the earth...
bloom will succeed by the whirlpool of the earth...
Unique is the way balances our key, to negate the unliving...
Extraction...exclaims the of the valley!
The holes expulse their breaths...
Cold emptiness of the source.
That turns the ashes, it to dirt...
As the winds teleport the plague...
the gargoyles supposed creation...
Creation...creation...creation...
Withered auras are from their centered bodies...
An interiorisation blackened is born.
The arcs fade from pounding sphere...
...Feelings out of their world,
As hate was created onto land...
Onto their land...onto their land...onto land...
by mouths of the earth...
Hurls of bowling are from the hollows.
That break the sounds in thoughts...
To control in themselves...
lividity...
Demonized art what thou art...
To be soulless, burning...
thou are now weak in nature.
>From the dawn, you'll be converted horrors...
Of the known bottoms...
Bottoms...bottoms...well BOTTOMS...
One's blossoms the whirlwinded vortex...
from the dryness of the underdepths...
But few this reality...
By simply reading one's knowledge...in the valley...
In the valley...
The creators understood the above their way,
behind the winged carrions...
To be deminished, burning...
Now forgotten as...now forgotten as...now as...
Now as...the ANCIENT ONES!
..One's thee, as
now...
as now... as forgotten now... as forgotten now...
Burning...burning...
Now as...now forgotten as...now forgotten as...
Now forgotten as...the ONES...