Hymns of the Mortals: Songs from the North

Hear the galloping eight hooves riding from above. Bringing new heroes behind the gates of Valhalla. There is no time to rest. It's time to start the Fest. Golden mead will fill up their horns. This ancient and divine drink shall heal all of their wo

On this night of thousand knives as I lose my mind. Beyond suffering that is caused by losing everyone that I ever loved. Wicked curse in myself. I see faces turning away from me, I hear voices telling me to go away. In mirrors I see distorted figure

Whispers in darkness. Ground is cold, pale as snow. Creeping silence bounds this land. Shadows are casting over North. Red stains in snow, shadow is marching away. They died in silence. Under northern skies. Behind scenes of forfeit dreams. Stars shi