Blackheims Hunt For Nocturnal Grace
Soaked in darkest lights
Deep in his soul, his shallow grave
In the deepest of his inner
A world of immortal arts
As the cold midnight winds
Captured his sullen spirit
He still lay there
In his dominion of dreams
His wings was covered by snow
Deep in his soul, the wind blew
By the riddle and wisdom
A hunt for nocturnal grace
Souls were heading towards death
Death was heading towards life
Life was in the coffin of the crypts
The crypts of Blackheim, the only one
The mercy is for the wisdom
And the slayer is our reward
No time to dread by
As we shall be unborn
With thirst for the blood of the sacred one
Three years of yearning for purest cold flesh
Amongst the wolves he's the kingly beast
A hunt in the forest of Elder's dark myths
A dominion for Blackheim
No mortals to enter, no enter
The lightning in the skies
The sign of his elder past