Sheltersiege

There is a small passage waiting for you on the roads and grounds where blood flows on howling and holy milk of legionariesA silence,an broken door and corridorUnluckieness,the garbage of grave guardsBloody rivers,betrayel shadows which blood couldn't cleanPale and greedy dogs coming from darknessWar machines are burning and wounding the soulsNail prints,my scream isn't exist in harrow corridors in thousand yearsMy hating doesn't sound,until reach the victory