Karmanjaka

Through the karmafalls, across deserted planes
Tengil rides through on his mighty black horse
Through the gates of her dark black cave, she spreads her fire and terror
Tengil sits silent, grasping his horn
Within his hand, her horror awaits
He only needs to point his finger — and darkness will follow
Whispering silent, her minions tremble
Tengil’s helm is red as blood
She waits in eager to hear the horn
Katla’s fire will soon spread
Awaiting her, nightmares of tengil
They liv in fear under tengil’s wrath
Now th fires are unleashed — all will die under tengil’s hand