Gathered are they, the wolves

>From the north and the tribes of

The underworld hordes

Heathen them

>From pagan wastelands

Joined with them have they

The stench of blood. Holy blood!

Have penetrated their woods and

Fields too long

Ravens flew as messengers

>From hill to hill

They brought harsh

Blasphemous chant

As ancient as time itself

Whispered by the wind which

Cries for the waning moon

The beholders of the cross, shall

Be mesmerized by fear

Their fate denies the fact of such

Creations

Man, beast - the hordes of the

Underworld

Bound by chains forged by

Pagan blood

Tonight they shall feast

Tonight the ravens and wolves

Shall feast

Upon blood, of those of the

Light who behold the cross

Beneath the remains of a civilization.

Centuries of sorrow!!

Centuries of pain!!