Praising The Impure
Thou Art Lord
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Deeply down in the valley of Kings
among the neutral woods of the forsaken lands
A tenebrous spirit eternally dwells
seeking resurrection for the horde of torment.
Till the final calls, legion of the Undead
will keep their swords, fiery into the crypts
under a fullmoon light, onward to sacred path
bright ungodly flames exist in blackened souls.
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Howling from darkness, summoning the nameless
reveals the hateful wrath unleashed upon mankind
nocturnal lullabies, praising the impure
the mystery of creation perished in the endless sky.