The True Werwolf
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Weeping Lord Of The Majestic Plague

The True Werwolf


The remains of the chapel breath cold
Where rats swarm in the stench of death
A crushed violated tomb in the starlight
Where the living corpse hides the curse

In the old times injected with the poison
Cursed destiny to be one with the night
The misanthropic chains of darkness
Biting deep into the gruesome pale flesh

Laments wept in a horrid voice
To announce the coming of deaths
The grand plagues that will murder
Like the majestic breath of satan

Travels to sadness and despair
Where no joy resides
Journey across the forest
Doomed to haunt

In the cold mist of the forest
The foul stench of evil
Choked by the cursed torments
As a shadow in a coffin

Sleeping in the dirty blessed soil
Jailed in a coffin tomb of stone
Only to come alive at night
Like in puzuzu's dream lifetimes ago.

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