cryptic winterstorms
immortal
the freezing waters below
as mirrors made of funeral mist
but the blasting sky above
and the fullmoon is on the rise
my hair blows in the winds of reap
still i float with the cold diabolical massacre winds
on the bestial wings of evil
and into cryptic winterstorms
i long for eternal frost and black winters
awake in the stars in the sky
and silent the valleys in the north
where i once were a proud warrior
where i bath my soul in doom fire fog
where i ride death's cold winds
in the battles in the north
as norse warriors i rode the dark valleys
sworn to throne the dark lands
in the blue mist of the dying sunset
with the cold diabolical massacre winds
and into cryptic winterstorms