1. Spectral Sons Of The Mictlan

(инструментал)

2. The Scars Of My Journey

When life has ceased
When the temptation of the traditional spirit
And catastrophic barbaric desolation surrounds
The core of my linear cold menace
Feeling the power and reflection
Of the inner which is always present
In this cosmic landscapes of sorrow
Are the winds and whispers ashes
Of the ancient memory which tries
To release the thousand pictures of agony
(that lust dormant in the rust and frost of my cosmos within...)
Shattered and deceased all the once bright possession
That lead this strangeland are now just a feeble flame in my soul...

3. At The Edge Of The Nebula Mortis

The long cold voyage is reaching the end
A destiny that can be forged as well as faded
Into the pestilential mists of spiritual profanity
My eyes are eternally searching the winds
The apocalyptic winds that ride over the majestic ruins
Finding the past, unseen and enormous
A time of repent and glorification
Learning from the ancient black dawn of the thousands beasts
All breathing fire and blood
All breeding the most supreme race of volcanic entities
In my veins
In their veins the magma of wisdom floats
As the hate and revenge pumps in our cold and retaliative hearts
But the journey is still far from ending
Still painful odysseys are coming...
(The most valuable yet the most agonizingis the one
To reach the root of my damnation...)

4. Fading...

Vast and decayed, mourners of faded aspiration
Upon the colossal halls of rotten tragic shadows
Their inner essence and wisdom like a tornado
Over my torn spectrum will always be the bleeding eye
Dreadful visions of an impending fear
An unbroken cycle, purified with the stench of sadness
Which leads me to a crimson immolation
Pain immense and ritualistic
Lost years, faded illusions, bleeding dreams
All in one, at war with myself at the empire of Msach-Eht

5. Return Of The Banished

Afraid of the sinful twiligh
The bastard sons of mediocrity are beheaded one by one
By our mace of dark steel and black ice
Melted with the blood of past tragedies
The ultimate massacre of the false ones (they) are beheaded one by one...
With no mercy, marching for revenge, we the proudest
Rise high the flames of Victory
Always guided by the eyes of the serpent with feathers
Always procreating our liberations and destiny
My castle made of skulls and bones
And painful which the endless fear of the defeated
Afraid of the crimson twilight
The bastard sons of mediocrity are beheaded one by one
(Then) we rape the one who flies in the skies
(The cursed paradise) and destroy those
Who dwell in the underground fire
Our cult is turning smaller but growing stronger
We are the overlords

6. Cosmic Landscapes Of Sorrow

The dominant symbol of the supremacy
Which flows and invades our furious souls
And emmanates from my conquering visions
Feeds the ironwill of my essence
Rise my astral spectrum, procreation of the inner temple
Through the dreamlands of this betrayer earth
We must face the gravefields
Eternal mirrors of our desolate future
Now with the last fragments of sanity
Embracing ym evocations
Violent grim creations
I'm left to fight
As the elder wraiths of chaos command
My deceased and mesmerized heart...

7. Architects Of Melancholic Apocalypse

I had tortured myself with great storms of elder times
But bitterness and fatality didn't come alone...
The elements of utter horror beyond all the past horrors
Behind fathomless echoes of forlorn prosperity
Let the ravens be cursed like my traitor fate has ever been
Summon the dismal blessing of memories
These desolate lunar-like hills
My only one rest and peace
Summon the dismal blessing of memories
Decrepir ruins of a dream lost and forgotten
Agony from centuries, past and future
Coldness runs in every tear of sorrow
The last tower, hall of vengeance
Catacombs of pain, my funeral request...
Once again lying dormant into this pyramid of pain
The refuge for this soul possessed by grief
Fading into the shades of this necropolis
I'm the last son of the spectral Mietlan

8. Storm Of Revelations

In this melancholic soil eternal remains of tears and suffering
Are the seed that I once planted and for the withering
I can see insane and weak presence has been here
But before I can glance the final domain they will
Experience the greatest punishment ever...
Falling from the grey skies the perished decayed
Pieces of their beloved once will reach their weak
Minds and they will dwell together as one
For a thousand entities
Burning in the universla path of disgrace
They will take my gift with utter respect and suffering
With my cold melodies of depression at my side
The tideless seas are on sight
Never a majestic treasure has been so damaged...
Be afraid, be very afraid
The storm is getting closer and the revelations
I have conjured are the cursed and heretic words of our Cult...