Elffor - Old Uncharted Kingdom

Through the stargate from the most absolute darkness
The lord of the throne of skulls appeared
Master of the lonely souls fallen in battle.

Guardian of the flaming impious doors
Where dark aureoles used to draw shapes of dead warriors.

Restless shadows that drew shapes mournful
Never ending howls mystified the castle 
Warriors that full of hate and revenge
Awaited the sound of the horn and the drums

Spirits full of pain and torture wandered in the silent night waiting for the call of the warlord.

Spectres that reflected the hatred and suffering from he ancient battles
Where the storms of death razed entire villages before blood staining the forests of devastation Открыть страницу с текстом

Drawn on a parchment between the caves of Oarri
Hidden among beeches was the castle of the mysterious tower.

Ghostly shadows on swift horses crossed the forests of Zalgo.
Spirits condemned to ride for eternity towards the astral dawn of war as the warriors of the apocalypse from the deepest shades unlock the doors of evil road not to return anymore where the battle has no end.

Storms of fire come out from the abyss of the earth with the sound of he horns in the darkness of the night.

Cries of death come defeating the enemy in honour of the ancestors Открыть страницу с текстом

When the night falls after another day of sorrow the darkness draw itself deeply into my soul and sins.

In the ruinous tower deafening screams announced the battle after witnessing the silhouettes of the enemy advancing rapidly among the misty hills.

Hordes of warriors collided hatred was reigning the battle.
Frozen winds hit the rocky slopes close to the old castle of countless battles.

A whole life fallen into oblivion where creation reverses the age of chaos to die in an endless shadows woods. Открыть страницу с текстом

Moribund with the snow over my face and the mouth frozen by pain
When my spirit wanders through the fog a black hole opens in the cold winter land.

Demonic hordes arise from the depths of the abyss to destroy the light of the weak ones.
Piercing cries announce the land of the Christians death lying on a pestilent floor of putrefaction.

In the pagan land they will behold the holy heart uprooted and sent through the black hole.

Forced to fight for the evil force leaving the glory to join the dark
Like the last clan of the mountain which was persecuted and extinguished by enemies. Открыть страницу с текстом