Wóddréa Mylenstede - Freorig Holt

A sky of blood, pursued by the moon,
Falls on ancient forest.
The calm frost of death calls with open arms.

To shed this blood alone,
And honour thy call,
Drawn by the path of the moon.

To return as Wolf spirit, malevolent,
This vow made under frozen moon,
Die and forever roam.

When I force blade to my neck I will be set free
When I fall, rise again. As in Goetia it's written.

When I force blade to my arm I will be set free.
To fall and rise again. As servant to thee.

For night is mine,
Suffering, where no moonlight falls
And claim this land I roam.

Be sure in this pact,
And cross to the other side,
Where Satan and serpent await thee.

A bastard hold on a past life,
And vengeance soon!

Wolf is stirring.
Under the frozen moon.
Now arise, from woodland tomb.

A bastard hold on a past life,
Now arise, from woodland tomb.

Hail the ancient spirits.