Krigere Wolf - Death Rides On The Blade

Death rides on the blade,
wounds are slowly freezing
the black soul decays on the wet
and bloodstained grass
Only the wind, the silence, the humming
of a melancholy atmosphere
is heard in the macabre and misty
swamps of the north.
Rotten armors, carpet of evil,
of dark forests.

Father, from your sigh
our strength, the cry
of the battle beats on my heart
darkness closes the damaged doors of my eyes
A storm of fire opened the gates of hell
hits of swords ringing in my ears
the mournful voice of the horses fills my heart
Wielding an axe I invoke the death
The entrance of damnation, it closed me inside…
and there, only terror, pain and suffering.

The malignant melody
of the wolves breaks the silence,
Valkyries on the battlefield
warriors in army, heroes of Valhalla.
Slaughter of souls, damned spirits
between the force of light and darkness,
final battle in the realm of dead
of the hereafter, of the eternal condemnation.