A desolate aeon has passed since the demise of our crown

A tragic end which made hecates and predictors wail

But dragons still sleep tranquil in proud heathen hearts



At first they came wearing their most innocent masques

Telling vikings vague stories about a nazarene whelp

While keeping their swords drawn behind their backs



Storms of Asgard

Engulf the unfaithful

Storms of Asgard

Reclaim your throne



They spread their odius thorns all over northern soil

Some unfaithful sheeps swore allegiance to them

But some rather died

Their craving and megalomania became too much

Raping northern soil before pagan eyes spawned hate

There where great battles but the outcome were not



The pagans volcanic wrath is still alive in our hearts

And the white veil which still covers us

Will be torn apart