Hell’s gate 

The hymns of the church,

Sounds of the bells at a hell’s gate

We kneel before blooded altars, 

Our hands bruised from wars of life
a dirty past or a tainted tomorrow 

The devil is not a liar

His mistress will choke you in your sleep
For the bottles are of glass

Crushed onto a hard rock

The taste of a dead wine may soak a burren field 
a wild wind, 
Chasing the colors of a fading love

Into a sunset,

A winter night

A red moon and hungry wolves

bleached withered roses,

Frozen by the Sea of souls 

With the rising smoke

Dancing in the flames

find me at the hell’s gate 

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