Moria calls you old man,
Its stones shall be drenched in blood.
The price is the son of promise,
The price is higher than all.
He was to become a mighty nation,
But in the hand of his father,
The dagger of death was raised.
The only thing left is a fathers tears and a hope in extinction.
-Do not harm the boy! Stop your blade.
You have passed the test of faith,
Spare his life, let him go!
More than the ability of a man,
You have overcome your fear and shown trust to the promise.
Cut the chords from his wrists,
He is not the sacrifice.
Behold I will provide my sacrifice,
Blood will be shed in latter days.
Then no one will take his place,
There will be no escape,
No other way.
Blood of atonement.
Blood of sacrifice.
Sacred blood.