Azazel
longing for dark winterforest
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Frosty fogwoods upon
we run into the deepest forest
with wind among us
surrounded by wintersky,
shadows of fullmoon
frozen breeze starts to feel
our dream, our reality
It is all the same
obscured in frozen throne
realms of desecration
a raven in the opened sky
black snow descends
our horde above all
gathered in whirlwind
risen from blackened war
wounded, but strengthened
enlightening in moonglow
feeling the darkest mood...
holocaust
longing for winter forest...