Blodsrit

Ridding a pest

Blodsrit
While wandering the heathen planes of Thule
A wind of the free, began moaning to me
Mournful whistle, an anthem forlorn
Ancient, hateful and mighty
So intense the spreader preached
That the insight became an answer

Win the battle of becoming
Be the ominous
In ridding a pest
Be the Belial

The grace of the raging is mine
And all the arts of being my master
Conspire all archaic evil
Dominate the dreadful souls
In ridding a pest
Be the Belial

And hem in the grandeur of yours
All heresies and heinous acts of the pagans

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