From the Ashes of Sin (Meden Agan)

I feel the cold air hit my face Take the fear away I feel the fire burn my skin As I approach My death is certain but still I don't regret my dreams I faced the tyrants who want The whole world on their knees You must obey us We are the messengers of the god The fate of your souls Lies within our grasp Lies... Fear... Hate... Are your spawns We were all filled with your lies Since we were born