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Away by the black tower waiting

The graceless approaching by dawn

The gleam of the golden Kin fading

As sure as the clouded, setting sun

Through the storm all sounds are of screaming

Their armor is pierced by the blade

The tree burial that they are all dreaming

Living in death means to never reach the grave!

The sounds of battle grow louder,

Banners in the distance now burned,

The order is now all but shattered

The Calling the graceless to return

-

Ānsaca, byrnað swā lēohtflām

Fandiaþ godcund galdræc nihtes,

Singaþ heortan tō his naman,

Cyning ealdfæderlicra goda!

(Ambitions, burning as a flame

Test divine invocation of the night,

Let us sing our hearts to his name,

The king of ancient divinity!)

-

Traitors ! Willful traitors them all,

An entire life of privilege and right,

True first born sons both hidden and shackled

Imprisoned in tunnels that share no light

Imprisoned in the shadows, that share no light

The hope of New war that mine be free

Corpses of heroes stacked high

My hands shall brook no quarter for thee

Under the weight of my sword is where you die