Pokol - Ordog

Wreath of nails hold apart

The flesh that is now parted

I hate myself

For being weak enough to faint

Bloodstained are my hands

Fill my chalice

Full of endeavour

I am so alone

My hands are like

A great river of death

I seduce pain and clasp nettles to my arms

More pain coming from within than from outside

No peace for me in death

All the world turns to ice in my eyes

My lamentation is long

Recalling a past when i had a home

From my temple

There is no comfort

For that

I will soon be absent