Charging through the fields of Romans Malice creeping forth Women, children – scum and vermin Filth of feeble kingdoms burning Rapid brutal acts in warfare, savage, bestial rage Mighty hunnic warrior chief Descendent of the Xung-Nu Dragon Raised on desolate steppes, with horseback aligned Sk**fully mastering dexterity along with his might Though his ambition to rule brought feuds and dismay Bledda would not be the last to behold his reign (Now) merging the scoundrels and villains in arms, he marches to war Demolishing villages, pillaging every home Gallic towns were slaughtered, removed from the face of the earth (And) the Visigoths grew in detest to the hunnic abuse Flavius Aethius, quickly emerged to seek favour in coat of arms For the Visigoths shared the Romans detest to their foe By the gates of Orléans, the bloodiest of carnage was fought And the very first emblem of frailty was yet to unfold Compelled to withdraw with uttermost haste, seeking refuge beyond the gates Where strategical virtues would grant a superior blow Alas, the strife was lost to the Magister Militums bliss But they would not evade The Scource of God! “Worthless, frail offal!” His spiteful intentions ablaze With the essence brought forth by the Foulest form of stars Now vengeance was imminent, as he aspires to devastate and burn “May all ye tremble and lay faith in thy plea For now we march upon Rome herself!” Tainted, abhorred, disgraced and forlorn Beseeching and pleading to spare them from woe An armistice was sealed for their relentlessness subdued Though forthwith he’d conceive plans most vile and crude Yet a hero’s d**h was not in store, nor bloodshed, nor defeat. For he would meet his bane through the chalice of deceit A thousand slaves erect the cage where he would find serenity Remains within the rivers are now washing away To this day