The roses stopped smilling
The birds stopped flying
In the poor heart's land
There was no light

There was hope
But there was also fear
There were deaths
So there were tears

Chorus:
The storm of souls
Makes the power
The power of the human being nature
That comes from the squires
Just like a thunder ... Roll of Thunder

Reflexes of a dark mirror
Reflect in your eyes a great mission
The mission of not letting the tears succumb
And the mission of fighting your lust ...

Since you were a warlord
And wants to find the last paradise
You would fight to death until you win
Even knowing that you could bleed.