Hear a Haunting Chant, Lying in the Northern wind. As the Sky turns Black, clouds of Melancholy rape the Beams of a Devoid Dying Sun, and the Distant Fog approaches.
Coven of forgotten Delight, Hear the Pride of a Northern Storm, Triumphant sight on a Northern Sky.
Where the days are Dark, and Night the Same. Moonlight Drank the Blood, of a thousand Pagan men.
It took ten times a hundred Years, Before the King on the Northern Throne, was brought Tales of the crucified one.
Coven of renewed Delight; A Thousand Years have passed since then - Years of Lost Pride and Lust..
Souls of Blasphemy, hear a Haunting Chant -
We are a Blaze in the Northern Sky, The next thousand Years Are OURS.
Darkthrone.-
...
Photography & Edition:
ˇ You are not authorized to use this artwork without my permission. ŠAmmy.W.