Black Soul کے بول

My black soul, slowly bleeds, fragrant sweet, slowly drowns I scream for pleasure in presence of death, violence is my blood Nobody dares to look at me my eyes are full of disgrace Fly, fly away, my black soul Your face twisted by fear incites my cells, my blood regenerated by horror I laugh observing your rotten minds, and feed myself brutal things Fly, fly... Arcane symbols are my light and my trust, dead skin adorns my body and my soul IN HOC ETIAM ANIMA POENAS EXHIBET Your face... fly, fly...