Abigor - Soil of souls Lyrics

Souls of infidel men
Is a fertile soil
Like dusky forests grow
On fallen leaves
We draw the essence of mortal weakness
Holyness - the worst gift of light
Is long dead and gone
Buried by our sisters ages ago
Whilst the sun rapes the day
Grow burns below
Armoured and strengthened are the sons of the moon
And not blood keeps us alive