Holy Whores, Burning Virgins

Holy whores and buning virgins
The torn velvet curtain of time
No crystal kingdoms anymore
No roses which set love aglow
with their bloody crimson
Only angry peaks of the mountains of oblivion
And their grim shoulders
Clad in the rays of the scarlet planet
Full of dreams ruffled by heatred
They reach when the suns go quiet
Where the black wolves devour the stars
And inhale air into their rotting lungs with a hiss
The scarlet totem of harlots rises
And the fire has devoured the kingdom of white ladies
No cystal kingdoms anymore
No roses which set love aglow
with their bloody crimson