Luyện nghe bài hát Whirlwind Of Withered Blossoms

(Chapter 2 - ancestors)
are the skies that 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 has been inscribed...
By the Codex itself...
One's bloom will by the whirlpool of the earth...
One's bloom will succeed by the of the earth...
Unique is the way that balances our key, to the unliving...
Extraction...exclaims the of the valley!
The geyser expulse their breaths...
Cold of the enchanted source.
That turns the ashes, it to dirt...
As the winds teleport the plague...
the gargoyles supposed creation...
Creation...creation...creation...
Withered auras are stolen from centered bodies...
An interiorisation blackened is born.
The arcs fade from pounding sphere...
...Feelings out of their world,
As hate was onto their land...
Onto their land...onto land...onto their land...
Screaming by of the earth...
Hurls of are cast from the hollows.
That break the in their thoughts...
To control in themselves...
lividity...
Demonized gargoyles art what art...
To be soulless, burning...
thou are now weak in nature.
>From the rising dawn, be converted horrors...
Of the known bottoms...
Bottoms...bottoms...well BOTTOMS...
One's blossoms revived the vortex...
Resurrect from the 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,
behind the winged carrions...
To be deminished, burning...
Now as...now forgotten as...now forgotten as...
Now forgotten as...the ONES!
..One's thee, as
now...
as forgotten now... as now... as forgotten now...
Burning...burning...
Now forgotten as...now as...now forgotten as...
Now forgotten as...the ONES...