He, Who Stands Behind the Rows

No guardian angel
 And no healing saint
 But a pofane demon
 And a reckless beast
 Fill black blood into clear water
 Poisoning the womb
 Bring down the upheaval
 They will never return to the fold
 He, who stands behind the rows
 And he, who burns a thousand thrones
 His seed is hate, his harvest is death
 ... And power
 Decisions over death and life
 Made in the blink of an eye
 Carving wounds that never heal
 'Cause dead flesh cannot feel
 Turning the skies and the rivers
 Into a formless crimson red
 You drown your tears in shallow water
 You will never be the same again
 The End - A shattered world
 - Dystopia
 Marked by the absence of love
 The End - Earth torn apart
 - Tyrannia
 A reign in glory and tragedy