Crushed walls of the ancient temple Covered by thousand years old dust Ornaments in the holy stone Engraved by passing time No one remembers anymore The red dawn of the ancient power In the shadows of high columns Wind wailing sadly Lost centuries ago Ancient magic of the red priests Captured and blinded him Condemning to fate of a lonely guardian Walls covered with blood Never changed the color Spilled blood marked them for good Each ray of the light Changes into red In the temple of the past gods Thousands of people prayed Red priests uttered their incantations Bloody light of the unknown sun Reflected in the mirrors and gold Warriors of the red hairs Raised towards the skies Of the grey mists of wilderness Hooded figure emerged As a spirit of the kingdom of the mists Red glow spreads around He walked among withered trees Which once drank human blood Far the horizon A wind stirs up the clouds of dust Among its fret curtain One can hear the howls of ghosts Defeated in many battles They follow their murderers In the lethal procession At the gates of the red temple Their fate will be decided Unknown priests Uttered their incantations Temple candles Still melting in red blood
