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In the bleeding shy of the endless night

among the ghosts of the old gods

Is the book of the secret world

the code of the wicked and death spells.

I raise my sword at the altar of horns

possessed by the spirit of war

and I offer the blood of my cold old veins

to the king of hell

the dark legend was made.

I burn in flames beneath the depths

of the bark abyss

lost prayers fallen angels

everything tums to ash

as a sacrifice to the lord of beath

unholy hordes of cruelty and chaos

show me the way to the kingdom of darkness.

Everything burns in the fires of hell

where the guardian of darkness

smell the stench of my soul

the ancient dark cult

will be the art of war and suffering