Breath Of The Pestilence (old Version) by Zemial
The breath of the pestilence is near
By the misuse of black spells beyond all fears
The scepter of power in your hand you clutch
The black lotus put you in a deceiving trance
Hyper-geometry and its codes are now distant words
Like dreams forgotten by the sound of singing birds
The devil smiles and the demons at his feet
Speak through your mind: "Prepare for true taste of
defeat!"
The breath of the pestilence is here
The reaper's scythe brushes your flesh he is so near
Panicking, you blow the ancient dust
Of mouldy magic scrolls; to travel far you must
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