Abigor

This soil is dripping with the blood of angels
I can almost touch their hands through the ground
My eyes are filled with pride
For this land of the dead
Is the precious gift of my father
No mortal value can buy such a treasure
Which I cherish in my heart of hearts
Father - Satan with fangs stained in blood
Smile to my naive dreams
This unhallowed ground
Secret sanctuary of my thoughts
Where I walk hand in hand with death
Upon blood and soil