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The Vampyre
by
Tribulation
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Hear them calling the children of the night The curse will last until the end of time Enduring it for centuries through darkness and pale death Time is an abyss prodound as a thousand nights Mysteries from a long forgotten era Enough in chills of rancid death Sweeping his way like a shadow Reaping his harvest plague The black death The black death From the seed of Belial he rises Spreading his sickening breath From landscaves of grey In the land of the phantoms With a touch as cold as the night He's reaping his harvest plague The black death The black death From the seed of Belial he rises Spreading his sickening breath The glowing moon The march of rancid rats The love to the darkness The mysteries of the bat Blood is the lifestream Blood is why he kills For he is eternal Blood will forever still As one with the darkness As one with death Devouring your flesh
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