| Dwelling in these mortal lands
|
| ancients forests, that speak to me
|
| «Seek now, the santuary
|
| of our infinite dark empire»
|
| I emerge from the fog
|
| beneath the moonlit skies
|
| sitting upon my oaken throne,
|
| my spirit is one with this forest
|
| A palace shrouded in emptiness
|
| lies beyond the endless vast horizon
|
| surrounded by the souls of the living
|
| their haunted voices they repulse me
|
| My journey leads me to their lands
|
| forsaken by their dark emperor
|
| they abhor this dying forest
|
| they battle against their immortal souls
|
| this kingdom of decaying darkness
|
| no traces of life to be found
|
| this land of infernal blackness
|
| speaks words of hate into my soul
|
| I arrive at the gates
|
| enshrined in an everlasting haze
|
| Filled with sorrow and despair,
|
| a woeful man returning to my vast domain
|
| my primal and arcane land
|
| leaving the palace behind
|
| returning to the tranquil forest
|
| my soul is now at peace,
|
| my warm breath on this midnight fog
|
| veils this land with a cryptic harmony
|
| the sound of the streams in the distance,
|
| the wind rushing through the leaves
|
| The scent of the forest, the trees and fog
|
| a pale reflection of an ominous moon
|
| the ageless winds of this eternal night
|
| they leave my soul at peace. |