Prophecy

Венсициа Коррино
Bitter of incense
Tremble you men
Pray a new god
No survive anyway...

When my master comes
And i\'ll die again
When sentence is passed
In the dawning of day...

Upon my reflection
The prophecy made
Mysterious loving
Upon dirty dark graves...

The master of evil
Comes up from hell
While cries of black ravens
Fill indifferent rain...