Look into the forest's lost mind
Listen to its gloomy thoughts
The sound of ancient wisdom
And sagas of lost lives
Many a poor man has wandered there
And many a lust for life gone gone
For those who in the forest have plunged
An unmarked grave, their last home
In a clearing between the trees
Remains of a burned farm
Remains of an old wife
Her body bruised and with deep wounds
As a warning, a sign of new times
Where she lies in bloody clothes
But that is the price you pay
To stand up against Christ's army

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