Always love

As The Blessed Forgotten torment my mind.

The Masters of Hate capture the souls of the reincarnated.

While Gods watch The Fates hold on the living.

When the sun rises in the North,

the Moon will whisper the names of The Chosen to the dead.

I know the watchers of Earth stare in disgrace,

As the living destroy the world in which they live.

Even after the hate of truth destroys the lives if the faithful

And silences the willful and determined.

As the skies turn black and rain clouds spin,

And wraiths release the fortune to forget

I will still always love.