Raise your breath, crypts of Medina.
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Towards the realm of ritual
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Leaded by the grief
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The faith in spiritualism
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Possesses your belief.
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The master won't remit your sins
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The judgement has arrived
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The atmosphere will bear the fate
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The seven mists will rise.
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Consecrate the gates to the magicians' hall
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Raise the silence, lead the barons to their seat;
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Fallacious thoughts die away,
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Pernicious doubt begets decay
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When the omen prays to heaven for relief.
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Hear the prophet's call:
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"Woe to the valley of the seventh mystique."
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(The curse of Medina:)
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A new sin will be born
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Upon a life's relic
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Redeemers will be torn
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For the reign of this mystique.
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The guardians to the spell
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Protect the ritual
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The barons of the dark
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Confess.
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Let the rubin touch the spirit,
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Take the fragment to the king.
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Awake the valley of the witches
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The curse will form the seventh sin.
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Medina's Spell (Valley Of The Seventh Mystique)
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Dark Millenium |