The Incarnate Ethereal of Nine

Wardaemonic

Compositor: Não Disponível

I call forth the winds
The cold from beneath the stones
I hear the whispers of a dead age
As the trees sway to the mountains moan

I summon the dark
As dawn fades
Midnights slumber
My dwelling among dead trees

The soil of my eternal rest

Feel my rotten stench on the breeze