Upon this frigid heathland
This realm of the makers
A gathering of storms
Unleashing, unrevealing
Through countless millennia
The dead wind has blown
Sweeping the plains
Of worthless souls
This realm of the makers
A gathering of storms
Unleashing, unrevealing
Through countless millennia
The dead wind has blown
Sweeping the plains
Of worthless souls
From the bottomless maw of madness
Distant echoes build to burning thunder
A gust of decay, a blasphemous stench
A sickening storm summoned to sunder
Pandemonium reigns of chosen slaves
On frozen tundras of societies lost
An endless strife
An endless winter
Crows on charnel ruins
A symphony of scars
Judged by the damned
Tried by the fallen
The bringer of sombre
The hungering void
A coat of rime on corrupted sepulchres
Not lost but forgotten we erase you
Veneration in the face of downfall
Desecration in the place of adoration
Spread the patterns around
Tharred signs of pyrolatry abound
Tular esina sath, ta sacni
Ac eisi nericn vacl! Ta sacni
An endless strife
An endless winter
The hungering void
And there was nothing more
The hungering void
The hungering void
The hungering void
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