Abbath — Winterbane

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Cleanse steel in carnage — Unleash chthonic Darkness
Scud stochastic vortex — Blitz vicious bastards
Sheath blades in carcass — Disembowel tangled skein
Upon ripe flesh we harvest — Human grain mortal pain

Reaper rides on genocides’ arc of scythes.

Combat casts the warrior — warfare marks the age
Stone to bronze to iron — steel is our rage!
Blood soaked grimoires spell — Hel a million ways
Vellum spills the venom — a poison chalice sprays.

Gods of War! Exhort the hordes as battle roars.
A Dragon dives Belching hives of serpent flies

Scribes skewer history — Truth dies in the telling
Scribes skewer history — Truth dies in the yelling of lies!

Afford us our sins. Bloodlust our wings
In death’s domain of Winterbane.

Death wept that grim day — gutting ghost from viscera
Flaying soul from the clay — cleaving mind from terror.
Reavers rode roughshod — ‘cross the skull-crushed plain
Legions mass the grave — where spirits shriek insane.

Fire drakes dive. Burn ranks alive. Dead worlds collide.

Ravens glide. Swoop and pluck the Hero’s eyes.

Scars carve the memory — truth lies in the cutting
Scars carve the memory — truth lies in the culling of lies

Seraphim soar above the ichor
The sea of slain at Winterbane.

Wilderness will not claim the beast
Nor civilized state deny its feast
Not gibberish of madman, hysteric chant of priest
Nor lovers’ brutal sighs, lend the savage peace.

A demon raised in flames must stride
Stricken trails in stark divide
The frozen waste of Winterbane
To face the monster still inside.
Deep within its burning eyes
A killer stirs, starts to rise…
Reavers ride the ice-crest tides
Thunderous hooves churn the skies.