Utgard - Forest

Shimmer of cold light of the moon
Made icicles point us like sharp knives
From this moment on, no words are needed
Two souls, but through this path only one will go

Breath this chilling air
Let the lungs inhale, the spirit of murder

Red crystals pour to snow
To kill a human, to end a life

This forest is a shrine
Your flesh bound to earth At the treshold of death
Sparks start to gather

Dark gateway opens
You were the key
Into the dephts of evil

One had to die
To channel the power
Into a greater being

Shimmer of cold light of the moon
Made blade of my knife shine