A sign of norse blacks me.
For I had seen the darknight.
But she was awesome forbid,
her whore were all the mankind.
Apprentices of mightly day fire,
sunged in that flame that burned the battles from desire,
gripped in a belief that no one ever had shall known.
In this pit I rest with all the worms eating my brain,
in this chase of two wolfs and sheep.
The wideness of a kingdom and its king for us to be.
Centuries before casted out from battle horn of desire open,
the chimming bells of war called us all in sign of norse.
Wrathing in the underdarkness
apleasament the widing circle of the glory
Frostbitten it appears to be.
The most glourios king above us he reings.
With white power he domines.
The blast of white might we shall benight..