Eternal Tears Of Sorrow

While the seventh king of dawn is veiled by the shrouds of shadows,
And the crown of the saint is turned into rusty blades of the beast
Rise, my children of hatred,
Feel the aura of the embracing night,
You're the ones who have been foreseen,
Feeding the flames on the pyre of the reborn one
"Hail, the new king!"
On the throne...
"Of the Northern realm!"
The skies of crimson are now crying,
For the dawn that never will break again,