Troparion For The White Plague

Sun rise, a smell in the wind speaks the death of another soul

Rainfall, a bacterial barrage of perplexing dimensions

A night in the hours of darkness

Before rimes and hymns were branded

A witch respelling the tome of the damned

One was told she had no eyes, nor for soul

Altherion summon the damned summon the damned

Son of the plague of the rotting dead

Murderer, devious malady

Fallen ones, dance on your graves

Taint by fever

The lust and flesh of humanity

Troparion for the white plague

Silence, only squeals and shiver from the vermin in the water

Sickness spreading trough the gutters

Flesh from a raven

Spleen from an embryo in a bloody both

Skin of a horse

With garlic and vampire guts

Altherion, son of the damned, son of the damned

Summon the plague of the rotting dead

A kiss from to the prince of the dead

By mourning and suffering, people shall die

The year of the plague sets in

Fallen ones, dance with me