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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.