The Call Of The Wintermoon

Buried beneath the mountains of frost
Years of silent sorrow grim and dark
My winterwings of evil sleep in eternal nights
In deaths cold crypts of snow
The moon chaimed my return
With the blackstorms I came
And not with the wings
The Northern darkness marches through the coldest night
I can’t resist the taste from the winds of the moon
I split my tongue for the taste of these winds
And bath my eyes in it’s grace
Frost and winters returns to my eyes
The call of the wintermoon
Nocturnal clouds blows freely in the distance
In the gray mist of deaths horizon
My winterwings of evil sleeps
In deaths cold crypts of snow
Buried beneath the mountains of frost