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Misery (Khors)

Through the haze of the fog You can hear the breath of the grief Souls of warriors are passing away, Bringing suffering to the hearts. Red river carries sad news The songs of birds cannot be heard Silence hanging over gloomy wood And the sun hesitating to rise. Life and light passed away from this world Having left the moans of sorrow Death-rattles and mothers' sobbings. Behind the ancient wood Shadows of gods receive to their world The souls of brave and eternal.