Lords of the Nightrealm

A toll enshrouded spectre; with demons wings Surrounded by a pale and cold radiance Eyes so morbidly and brilliant Unchained is the devil of Ira Arriving to the throne buildt in coldest blackstone Towering above a mantle of thick fog Reflections into

The olden night still draws me Rays of the moonlight weeps over an infinity... ...Of these mighty mountains and forests Within this mighty landscape Mournful whispers of melancholy echoes From a sombre cavern A maze filled with gloomy passages Grotes