The woods are alive At night, its calling... tempting in deformed trees and branches petrified with black thorns outstretched so dark that it blinds its own shadow silhouette which guides my way And smell of death rises from mouldered soil I hold the skull bowl against the cold light of Nanna Lycanthropy the arcane power unleash the beast inherited instincts through forests maze my howls haunt In darkness eyes ignite the drunk of splendour from open throat of prey pours the wine of Satan The woods are alive at night, its watching deformed trees and branches drape the parts of victims oath of kindred spirits pure and ferocious the brethren of wolves
deformed, branch, wood, mouldered, nanna