I, Lord of all winterstorms
reign opaque and serene
from my sovereign throne o` ruthless might…
"Amongst the shadow of ev`ry raven wing
Obsidian black in the moon-misty sky"
Torrents of blasphemous fire
enrage forth…
thus allowing my soul to devour
feeblish souls with sickening power
as the ancient warcrafts proudly descend
from the North
Dwelling in the depths of midnight horizons
endless realms of darkness
benight`d by the third moon
through dismal soil, eternally I wander
-such pure Nightly evocative magick…
In the bleakest oblivious scenarios of hidden plateaus
lays atop a shadow, amongst the gleaming moonshine;
`neath the archaic spell, still the arcane oak wanes,
forever entwin´d
and a cave I find, of the deepest black
rendering memories of our Pagan forefathers
I have sworn on the whoracle of the damn´d
to forever raise my fist to the sky
A thousand sorcerers I summon`d
on my forest way to the hellish Kulthay
Oh the blood of my foes and fiends…
how I beheld thy corpses
raptur`d by virulent winds
Fogbound, through malevolent disguise
I dreamt in cold waters
of ancient realms darkly enthron`d
Whilst cold ice-winds stormed the mountain
under a profane enchantment I sentenc`d all to live
…or perish.
Oh, my vast imperium of sublime grandeur…
thy memory ever present in my mourning heart, old ones
Black is my soul as it withers
Black is my heart as it dies
Black is my blood as it freezes
Black is my silhouette as it lies…
…Now seal the gate
