When the sun sets from the east
and the moon rises in the west.
The wind blows in the south with grotesque eyes.
And the Northern stars shine in the holocaust twilight.
Dragons spit light red fire
and warriors battle the demons.
For the time being I leave the war.
But my heart looks for it in a saga of painful death.
Miserable thrones of black
that fade with the power of us.
And the demon is defeat.
Defeat by us who battled energicly.
Our hearts of ice risen with pride.
We face beasts that sank and stride.
Beneath the North sky.
Shine the walls of time to time.
Cheer us up the battalions of migth.
Suffer the masses high.
Suffocate them with blight.
The shrine of power we lead
as we pray for our Christ.