Tekster: Immortal. Battles In The North. Descent Into Eminent Silence.

Standing in ring walls of stone
Deepest dungeons

Passing iron gates
Nor the golden sent dreams

Under towers
That once stormed in sight

That never storm

Hill, to the elder ravens
From borgs layed in fog


Forget not the blasphemic
North deeps

Shadows steal our souls
Into what we once were

I'm feeling
That taken us there

Closed in time
For those who pass our gates