I fall into the rapturous embrace of sloe-eyed witches, The moon gleaming upon their ivory bosoms, And descend into the still, icy waters of the lakes. My slumber is as light as a wolf's. Serpents coil entempled ramparts Of sunken jewelled cities, Wolves of winter's moon are roaming The temples of the heather gods. R'acan Ahalgana chamiabac ahalmez ahatocob tocapa chiamiaholom ahchami. As a black moon broods over Lemuria.
Mystic steel is anointed by the crimson wine of battle, And blood reddens the gleaming snow.
Scourge of Angsaar, wielder of the Black Sword, Immortal Lord of Darkmere, Serpent-Witch ensorcle me. I am enraptured by ophidian eyes. Pungent odour of engorged flesh, Vaults of eon-veiled horror, Embraced by delerium, witches' balms anoint me. In the vaults of the dreaming gods, Shackled to the slime-smeared bleeding stone. Squamous orbs, black sword, drink deep, blood oath.