Sabbat

Our tounges they could not silence,
with their malicious lies,
their unforgotten violence,
remember those who died.
And as my flesh is put to fire,
I hear their voices still,
their unjust accusations,
demanding I am killed.
'We shall show no mercy to heathen
such as thee,
who stand accused and have refused
the Church's clemency,
your wicked acts are endless,
though the crimes they cannot name,
innocent or guilty proved,
we'll burn you just the same.'
Burning, into the fire.
Burning, a funeral pyre.
Burning, into the fire.
Burning, a funeral pyre.