The Beckoning arrived at the thawing break
Before meadows leave of night mist
Rise of Northland's warm sun
To the court of his being, count of the great abyss
Sent through the darkness of night
The call of his unhallowed summons
Whithered ceatures he fathered
Hideous souls, slaves to the evil hand
To forge from cold winds frozen winter glare
And heated skin shearing blades
Become the darkness our homes built
Fire of utterness destroying our existence
Growth of raw distress in red eyes
Blinded by the dark century of now
Cynical men, forged entirely of shame
Hold eternal strength of shadow and Grimland

And to know the vain destiny
Slithering creatures the children
The church bells ring his unholy call
Known to witches as the
Gesture of his unhallowed summons
Dwelling where no sunlight ever existed
Raise the clement sword blade to mouth
To kiss the demon's lips
Thus the sweat tastes of blood
Gathering horde, his wretched army
Hero in the Emperor's malicious eye

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