First Cross

The afflicted spirit of folk
Is weeping the tears like dew
Stare in its mournful eyes
Where distant fires reflect
Onset of wind blowing hard
The Sky is filled with gloom
On the dew sprinkled fields
Dismal clouds are gathered now
Clatter of horses' hooves
Resounds over the hills
Riders marked by black cross
Ride to bring in their creed
Steel armoured prophets
The warriors of false god
They come with lies and deceit
They capture with fire and sword
Pagans' blood is feeding
Their ancestors hallowed ground
Twilight descends across the woods
The ancient gods are eternaly lost
Sun sets like immersed in blood
To never rise again as before