Sons of Isengrim

We are a pack of wolves.
We are raiders of the night.
We are a pack of wolves.
We are Sons of Isengrim.
The leashes nearly strangulate us, but still we are lashing it.
The muzzle chokes every bark, and so all we do is howling.
Afraid of reality we keep our eyes closed.
Angst defines our existence.
When the sun sets and shadows swallow the light,
We shed all burdens and leave everything behind.
Our throats lust for blood. Our hearts hunger for life.
We are, we are — raiders of the night.
And then the sun sets and we open our eyes,
we breathe in fresh air, thoughts rush through our minds.
The conquest of darkness awakens our insanity.
At last we band together to hunt down the prey.
«My dear, beware, there are wolves at our door.
They’re coming from the wood to satisfy unholy thirst.»