Winter moonlight in snow covered vast woods. Drawing kingly winds dwelling honoured on my throne. Suddently I wondered on the highest cliffsedge of my homeland. The nightfall mist brought me visions from beyond the red horizon... All stood still, this omen would not last overnight. My name is whispered, time has come for me to die... At the sound of Hecate wings, behind the shades of Set. My eyes closed awaiting fearless she took my hand. To a white cold landscape once a glorious battlefield. And swear by my Celtic heart to grant always the victory of the brave... Sword at my side, ravens and owls chanting proudly my death. But the moon glows forever, taste the winds return so dark... Fallen pale moon, the pride of wolves forgotten. Leviathan tears bath us under funebre skies. Swing our swords through the triumphal breeze... My blood for you, divine beautiful Hecate. On her arms she held me high up towards. To touch the clouds in my last sleep... King I am, hailing for the eternal skies. Carrying the wolf within me, brave. My hordes riding like thunder, our flag shall not fall. Full moon and the pagan winds return. By fang revenge is ours!