Cohorts! – Regather!

Blood [bad word] down my tiring hands
Falling as pure red dew on the ground

pulse of [bad word] fills the air
Death is all around me
Dea Tacita a [bad word] For roman glory

deafening calm
Is screaming “forward”

And again we face the hordes
Painted beasts - in boiling rage
Deeply staring into the eyes of inevitable fate
 [bad word] s unleashed in screams of agony

When first I raised the tempest
I call on Mars to guide us
Nothing here, nothing else
To save us from the storm

Sacrifice the world and its
Progress to salvation
Quirites, sons of [bad word] of mankind must be overthrown

This is the dawning tempest
Now, I am [bad word] death
destroyer of worlds and
lost soul on a path [bad word] 
Condemned to grow and cursed to follow
Ten thousand men on [bad word] 
Hordes of tribesmen wild and furious
Painted beasts – rage amongst us

Colliding worlds so fierce and cold
feast of flesh in the eyes of a crow

And again we face the hordes
Deeply staring into the eyes of fate
taste of doom sealed with blood
Sacrificing the world to hate