Hellchild, be awaken

time to remember the rules

the centuries bleed,

the masters are dead and gone...

Dance again this winternoght

past and present shell unite

run for the burial

enter the vesper again.

The rummors suppose

godforsaken are those

that will bath in the gloss of whatever...

Dance again this winternight

past and present shell unite

run for the burial

enter the vesper again.



OF SCEPTRE the mysteries speak.

THEIR ASHES in the lande of the lords.

MAY grounds ban the stones of their head?

BE one with the spawn of the dead!