The shape of our wolrd is carred by this monument of everlasting purity a symbol that withstand all of our threats so fathomless vast and old, an unmutable voice the uncrowned king of ancient gods
The growing structure of purest power reaching far beyond our spiritual abyss the guardian of all crawlings beings a shining monilith in the witless days
In my oaken chest i fell it pound with the thunderous sound of raging storms In my oaken chest i fell it thrive on the blooming ruins of mine
In it`s shadow the age of aesirs was born nourished with the nectar of counsciousness the shore of a pitch-black stream spreads among it`s neverending roots
In my oaken chest i fell it pound with the thunderous sound of raging storms In my oaken chest i fell it thrive on the blooming ruins of my figthTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
