Guahaihoque کے بول

He is the horned Moon, the Serpent’s morning star Flawless destruction, with cold obsidian eyes Carrying secrets from times beyond so far His brutal hands the instruments of vice In his gaze lies the abyss that calls A void of screams and pain, of death and glory And I see that soon he will reclaim The cult of the black shamans, now God’s era falls In the ancient ruins, the shadows coil and whisper Watching and waiting for their king to come The sacrificial fire burning in the stones To turn Jehovah’s children into ash and bones And I see the southern legions awaiting The revival of the cult of Guahaihoque The lamb of Christ will bleed on his altar While the ancient tribe lights the fire