while the seventh king of dawn is veiled by the shrouds of shadows and the crown of the saint is turned into rusty blades of the beast rise my children of hatred feel the aura of the embracing night you re the ones who have been foreseen feeding the flames on the pyre of the reborn one hail the new king on the throne of the northern realm the skies of crimson are now crying for the dawn that never will break again yielded looks in eyes of the angels while falling down pounding the soil of the unholy crowned by the wreath of the demons ordained by the profane rites veil once so white is now burning in the fire of the sinful one baptized by the blood of angels gained the heart of the darkest kind in his veins flows the soul of ravens for the end for the dusk of humankind