Grim cold cavern,standing at the edge of the earth
Wretched fittle spawn,sitting at the helm of all he surveys

Bones of the dead and obscure trivial things,
From the dpths of hell,and of magical origin
Amassed with intent of invoking of the demons

Advent darkness ascertains commencements
Of pagan rituals,to summin forth
The legions of demons who shall rise from the dead
And come to the bidding of the wretched little one

Thundering skies
Panoptic gray clods of doom
From which the lightninh strikes

The encompassing vile wind
Ravaging the cold barren land
From bloodied heavens,hell descends

A raging fury in the form of pure evil
And blood that falls in form of rain
Marks the coming of invoked demons

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