In the nightime desert, I heard the pattering of feet.
This is an army of darkness hitting the road.
Axes. Spears. Swords in their arms.
There is a force and a sign of war without god.
Hot sand, heated sun, Stony ashes lie down on the ground.
Everything that was living,
Everything that was breathing, becomes fire.
Day or night, now is never mind. Stony face eclipsed the sun.
Everything what was staying, will stand by the sign -
Sign of ruins. sign of war. Warriors run, proudly they fight.
They melted their iron swords.
Blood burns their powerfull fingers.
Bird of anger is flying child of peace is crying.
No one have a chance be a great mistake.