The Holy Land
Violent orchids in lamenting graves
Despair shall spread like a Teutonic plague
To empires born of infinite grace
In heavenly spite through faith misplaced
Saracen winds race across the sands
To reclaim the jewel that fell from god’s hand
Raped in the desert by the western man
Behind epic walls where crosses stand
Salivating like Vatican dogs
With a blink of an eye their swords are drawn
Seraphim tears like blood shall fall
For those who rose to answer the call
Templar skies turn old and grey
And every man by god betrayed
To empires born of infinite grace
In heavenly spite through faith misplaced
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