Warcry

as needles of ice
are the ill winds' talons
the coldest of shadows
they seep unto the bone

with hackles raised on my neck i feel
the rancid breath of the betrayer
i heed you not and i give no ground
with words of power the holy unbound
christ majestic
the shadows retreat
ruler saviour
no quarter asked and none to receive

with words of power the holy unbound
defilers cast out shivering at the sound
christ arisen vacant gaping tomb
come divine wrath the slayer of doom

all praise to the lion
king of all tribes
you reach across time
with the warcry

the wicked exist in forgotten exile
and the saint has refuge in his end