An Arctic Star of Blackness - Throne of Ahaz



Called by a winter chant

Summon the ancient kings

A nameless fetid sin

Lies in the chilly air



I watch the gods of chaos

On their way through northern lands

The wind was freezing cold

And the sky was ruled by flames



A winter storm filled my wings

And I flew aloft to follow them

I rode the wind through the night

And knew that I was the chosen



A winter chant... grips for my soul



The seven kings of the new aeon

Gathered in this pagan land

I followed their speechless calls

I was their disciple and heir



A winter chant... grips for my soul





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