

A Darkened SoulThe Blind Crusade, March through the sand, Towards the holy city, They march forward at a command, And I march with them, A blind man, in an uncaring land.A Darkened Soul
They don't see, They don't Understand, The reasons they march, Toward the final stand. But I march with them, An unseeing eye, in a hidden land.
The burning sun, Has no demand, An endless fire, Killing with a burning hand. But still we march, An army of blind, towards a holy land.
The final war, The last stand, Millions of dead, On blood stained
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