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My freezing soul threw the darkest shadows
in the mournful light of nothingness
on a sight of desolation to the ruin.
And my spirit cast the frostbitten blight
on your despairing eyes of rottenness.
And my blood burned to the ashes of malice
to wrap your spirits in my freezing ashes.

Sweet whispers of darkness
from the forest of dismal shadows
lure your wandering souls of worthlessness
to the perditions of deathlike silence.
My shadow that behold the tears of raven
under the moonlight of sorrow
is cold grave of your sinful souls
that are shrouded in the funeral fog.
The shadow that is veiled
by dolorous wings of raven
to the perditions of deathlike silence.
My shadow that behold the tears of raven
under the moonlight of sorrow
is cold grave of your sinful souls
that are shrouded in the funeral fog.
Funeral fog that is cursed
by black blaze of burning witches's screams.

At the place where
the cold winds of sadness blow,
your souls that are filled with fear,
hatred and misery of blackness are destroyed
by massacre storms of reapers.
Your rotting flesh that was impaled
on my shadowy cross of malice
is buried by the eyes of raven
who behold your coffins of passing,
under the moonlight of sorrow.

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