Fullmoon Over The Eastern Woods

Bow before the grim moon
 The realm's silvery-faced watcher
 Arquaint the inward fiery inhuman dismay
 The kingdom of cold might
 Overwhelming dark eminence
 Disallows the impure undignified to enter
 This land is a ritual sumptuous robe
 An external layer to assimilate by the crowd
 Unmitigated aspect hidden for undesirable sight
 A gate to be forced by the somber nobility
 A hypodermic permanent eclipse
 That none with their inert rejoice
 Ever felt the fraction of
 This land has persisted immense
 Thrust of desecrating burdens
 As they tried to deprive its very core
 By raising their abhorrent lucid shrines
 Yet endured the obscure entity
 A retribution force
 Each meadow will own the gallows
 For grotesque brood of God
 Silver stream sinks through wooden stained glass
 Paints my face a pattern of inconstant ambience
 At the mystical bound
 The luminosity dares not to stride
 At the glorious time
 When no human dare to disrupt
 I hail the enchanted fullmoon that ascends
 Over the eastern Mazovian woods...