Votre estimation:

Estimation moyenne:

Cycle of life and death supposedly
Goes ’round and ’round yet it stops with me
Glorious hunter of my faith I have sinned
Killers are quiet like the the breath of the wind

Filling the shadows with forms of my own
Raised by kindred of get I was born
Abomination world in disarray
Killers are quiet when they seek the vitae

Reflection beckons a portal shard
Spiritual quest I must stay in guard
Stepping sideways betweens worlds I shift
Killers are quiet when they are born with the gift

Beautiful anguish cast out by my race
Now one that’s ageless I save my own face
I write my own laws with death I break bread
Killers are quiet when they come from my hea