Watcher of Sin

<foreign language . The raven comes, black wings of night.

It circles o'er the field's grim fight. Steel by steel and blood runs

red. The air is thick with the cries of the dead.

Oh, the raven, the watcher of sin, it sees the

start, it sees the end. No judgment cast, no voice to

lend. The raven knows but won't defend. Oh. In the shadow

court where whispers crawl, a dagger's thrust brings a ruler's fall.

The burden perched on the open beam, eyes like coal, like a haunting