Luyện nghe bài hát Whirlwind Of Withered Blossoms

(Chapter 2 - ancestors)
are the skies that tend the winds...
It overruns the 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 that has been inscribed...
By the life itself...
One's bloom will succeed by the of the earth...
One's bloom will by the whirlpool of the earth...
is the way that balances our key, to negate the unliving...
Extraction...exclaims the of the valley!
The holes expulse their breaths...
Cold of the enchanted source.
That the ashes, reducing it to dirt...
As the underworld teleport the plague...
Upon the supposed creation...
Creation...creation...creation...
Withered auras are from their centered bodies...
An interiorisation gate is born.
The arcs fade from their sphere...
...Feelings out of their world,
As was created onto their land...
Onto their land...onto land...onto their land...
by mouths of the earth...
Hurls of are cast from the hollows.
That the sounds in their thoughts...
To control in themselves...
lividity...
Demonized gargoyles art thou art...
To be soulless, burning...
Then are now weak in nature.
>From the rising dawn, be converted horrors...
Of the well bottoms...
Bottoms...bottoms...well BOTTOMS...
blossoms revived the whirlwinded vortex...
Resurrect the dryness of the underdepths...
But few this reality...
By simply reading knowledge...in the heart's valley...
In the valley...
The creators understood the meaning above way,
Leaving the winged carrions...
To be deminished, burning...
Now forgotten as...now as...now forgotten 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...