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Towards The Pantheon
May the wolves start to howl again. May the age of darkness arise. We will travel for
eternity's into the unknown to reach what we seek. Right the ways through the barriers
of light, through wastelands where nothing but grief have become the eternal memory.
Shield of life, sword of death held up high into the sky. Guided by the shining moon
into the starry sky above. In the horizon beyond black clouds of destruction rages like
dancing shadows of pain. We will grant Him their pain. He will grant us His flame. In
flesh and blood. He will arise to deliver the key. As the armors black robe slides
across the landscape, we will see the land of wisdom, strength and pure evil... Darkness,
frost hate... the throne will be ours. May the wolves start to howl again. May the age of
darkness arise. May we touch the black flames of the past again... and forevermore.
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