Awaiting the Battle Ravens
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
Gazing up to the sky, I see the darkness chasing away The Sun which once stood high, until not even a glow is left of day... A dark cloud covers the sky above, not a star in sight. This is the land of my Ancestors Land I will defend until my last breath Land of the folk and the lore Land of the Race Of Dolmens and traditions As the evening rain falls down upon the sleeping Earth, the voice of nature calls me to the place of my rebirth... Because this is the land of my Ancestors Land of Pride and war Land of history History spoken by the stones The land of my Ancestors Land of plains, mountains and lakes. Around the land flows a dense mist, a tree in sight, I have not found, the unknown beyond, one cannot resist, once the song of battle has sound... What lies ahead remains unknown, my sword pulls me, this blurry path is still not shown, yet I progress further knowing I am on my fated course... This is the land of my Ancestors And of those who died defending it Land of my Parents Land of Pride and war Land of history Where we shall again triumph.
Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025
Night arrives to the deepest of the forest Where shadows dance under the moon Ravens fly in dark places and forgotten rivers born in frost mountains Arcane thrones of the Old Gods that ruled this lands I remember when the men of the cross arrived to this place On those cold days of winter With their axes they chopped our sacred forests And burned our wise men They destroyed our sacred temples of stone And built churches for their foreign god On those cold days of winter... I was a child... But now I am a Warrior Who was born in unbaptised forests Wrath guides our souls to the battles And in profane rituals Under the rune of the werewolf we summon the old spirits of our land banished to darkness by the priests of light. As I walk I see immense valleys before me Immerse on perpetual mist With hillsides full of tall trees Home of the Battleraven Who seeks for the souls of the brave ones fallen in battle Old totemic symbols resist the past of time In the forests where I was born... In the Barbarian South of the Pagan Lands.
Submitted by The Void — Apr 26, 2025
I remember When the horns of war ralled the brave to battle I remember The times when honor ruled our souls and loyalty was the only law The young men looked for the secret of steel By the paths of war Riding towards the foreign lands searching for the spoils of war With the banners fluttering with the wind And the symbols of our clan. The glory dreamed came through battle and our legends were told By the minstrels at the light of the bonfires As with the horns full of wine The warriors rest Listening to the heroes' deeds. I remember When the druids hailed the sun for the solstice dawn And how in Beltaine's Night the old wicker man burned As same as every year in the forests and cliffs... Honouring the Pagan Gods of my Race. Time has passed and now I await, old and wounded, the call of Neton Black ravens fly across the sky with the vultures, they come to take my soul With the sword in my hand I say goodbye to this land Land of my parents and forefathers With pride I watch the forests and plains of Iberia, where I lived and died. From the sky I now see my lifeless body I see through the eyes of the Battleraven, Messenger of the Gods of the warriors, Who guides me towards his hall in the high of the sky Towards the home of the braves... Where rest the warriors of my folk. HAIL IBERIA
Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 26, 2025
The wind blows on the cold winter nights as snow falls In distant forests where time stands still High grow the sacred trees Where the spirits of the damned fauna dwell Pale the full moon spreads her light Leading the children of the shadows Those who were banished to the darkness of the night With the arrival of the stranger's cross Under a circle of sacred stones The elder spokes the name of the beast That in arcane ages guided and possessed the warriors souls Making them fierce on battle Spirit of the great grey shadow Who made of the forest your keep And of the mountain your kingdom You were god for the pagans And devil for the Christians who under their churches' light celebrate your death they, the children of the god-man Now under the winter full moon of samhain The pagans call upon thee Runes are carved in our swords and shields as before Your spirit will live in our hearts, your eyes will be our eyes This is the night of revenge When blood will be drank in forbidden rituals Snow falls upon our faces on this November night As the full moon guides the souls of the Iberian Werewolf Warriors
Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 26, 2025
This track is instrumental.
Warriors ride with spear and shield under the banners of the eagle In black winter days when shadows rise to life in legends And beneath high trees the ancestral cults of nature gods are reborn From father to son the tradition perpetuates the noble blood which came from the north And with it the hidden cult guised to God's eyes Barbarian clans crown their victories with arcane runes Coming like a pack of wolfs They burst into Christ's land proud and arrogant Heaven shook under the Vandal tribes trot Gothic folk, victorious sons of Gutton A thousand nations surrendered their lands under your sword's push (...)With strenght of bear and a wolf's gaze(...) The poet wrote of your gestes That still echo in Nova Gotiscanzia mountains With bravery, glory and heroism
Dark clouds fill the sky, banishing sunlight to the shadows of the night And wrathful storm comes, born of the anger of the gods From her throne in the mountain, Taranis strikes the firmament Unchaining the fury of the thunder that resounds in the valleys With December winds came the winter days Magic and mystic the trees arise like keepers of time Forgotten in their lonely reigns of silence Under the frozen moon, the hidden people comes out in solstice days From the entrails of the earth, far from profane eyes And with the snow flakes the tree spirits dance Caressing the cold air of the winter nights Secret eyes watch from the oaks Today is the sacrifice; the magic blood will feed the gods Under the druid's dagger the children of the earth celebrate their rites Which offends God's eyes in blasphemy Between the hills sunlight dies slowly and the darkness of the night are victorious Now it rules the white spirit that fills everything with his frozen cloak Mystic and magic open his gates to the everlasting realm When snow falls in the forest In cold winter days
Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 26, 2025