A Black Moon Broods Over Lermuria

Silvern skull, sable shroud, ebon tower, onyx crown.
Witchfire, black citadel, frost-shrouded steel, moon-veiled spell.

The skyqueen of the dead rides forth, black storm-borne steeds,
(their flanks anointed by) immortal blood,
Hark to the striking of the winds, the moon burns black as slaughter reigns.
Witch-Storm!

Bright fires agleam through winter's night,
Dark spells whispered on the winds,
The trees enrob'd in veils of frost,
Moonfire entwines the Eye of Khthon.

From the moon-swathed depths of winter-mists,
Enchantress, she-who-walks-the-night-alone,
Sloe-eyed shape-shifting sucubus,
Silken veils and slime-smeared flesh.
Witch-storm!

Storm-Witch, hearken this night,
Hone this black blade with sorcery,
Battle-spells annoint my flesh,
Let blood and steel be my glory.

Elder tongues encarved in sinistrous slime-flecked stone,
The Obsidian Tower broods 'neath the moon,
Winged fiends descend from storm-wrought skies,
Black Ring, key to the Shadow Gate, aglow with eldritch spells.

Forged in witchfire, envenomed steel,
Ensorcelled blade, blood-ravening,
Ebon demon's tooth, the bane of Kings,
Red rain of slaughter, prow of blood.
WITCH-STORM!

THE RAVENING
(Lyrics: Byron, Music: Jonny & Chris)

Black Legions ravening for blood,
Dark Lords hearken to my call,
Warriors rise forth from the earth,
Battle-spells empower me,
The Throne of Kings, the summoning,
Marble halls sunk 'neath the waves,
Storm-wolves a prowl (beneath) the ebon moon,
Immortal hordes, pledge me thine steel!

The clarion call of battle sounds,
Iron gleams in baleful flame,
Slaughter shines from misted eyes,
Storm-forged blade drink deep.
Stench of carnage fires my blood,
My bride of steel sings in my hand,
Corpse-mounds piled to touch the sky,
Black fury enshroud me!

Bleed for the gods of war!
Flesh to sate the worms!
By this sword I rule!

Dreadful fall of slaughter,
Raw scent of fresh-spilled blood,
Crimson rain falls from the sky,
Ravens ride the storm.

Black cloud of arrows, red storm of swords,
Dark wave of carnage... slaughterfall!

By blood and steel I rule!

Dark baleful shades astride the mystic heath,
Old land's enchantments, wolf-eyes agleam,
The moon slips 'neath the darkening sea,
The trees sing enthralling chants as the old gods dream...

As a black moon broods over Lemuria,
Ebon witchfire enshrouds the gleaming citadels,
Sinistrous shadows rise from the vaults of the dreaming elder gods,
Ophidian eyes glimmer through the icy whispering moon-mist...

Shimmers of black in the massing dark,
Moon-frost glistens upon my tongue,
The wraiths have gathered beneath the oak,
My soul encased in antediluvian steel,
The shades of pallid night descend,
To the ride the slime-flecked jewelled halls,
Enshrined in ice and witches' spells,
And silence falls on the marble walls.

By the eldritch glow of black moonfire,
The forst-shrouded trees whisper of silent paths,
Brooding shades rise forth from the night-dark sea,
A black tide of fiends erupts from the ebon gate.

Shimmers of black in the massing dark,
Moon-frost glistens upon my tongue,
The wraiths have gathered beneath the oak,
My soul encased in antediluvian steel,
The shades of pallid night descend,
To ride the slime-flecked jewelled halls,
Enshrined in ice and witches' spells,
And silence falls on the marble walls.

Winter moonlight gleams through crooked boughs,
The icy caress of night entwines the eon-veiled Obsidian Tower,
The whisperings of ancient tongues are borne upon the winds,
Dark time-lost spells hold the key to the frost veiled Gate of the Black Moon...

And in the dark ethereal mists of winter dreams,
The ebon waters of enlightment gleam 'neath the black moon,
And the Valley of the Silent Paths beckons...

Slumbering upon the throne of moon-caressed ice,
I have supped deep the draught of white vapours,
Shimmering upon the gleaming garlanded marble,
A single strand of glimmering gossamer...
Beneath the vaults of shadow-haunted tombs,
I see the fire that burns like the black heart of night.
In brooding and sombre visions I hear cries,
Enthralling cries 'neath the frost moon rising
I hear the slithering of forces that seethe serpentine in black guffs,
In the dark and silent places...

The whisperer in crystal speaks in dreams,
Of silken shadows, and the softest breath of dark enchantment.
Of ancient cyclopean temples, raising jewelled spires to the stars.
The is witchcraft in the moon,
And brooding silence reigns over the woods.
My storm-forged sword (stained with the blood of a thousand slain foes),
Ensorcelled by eon-veiled incantations.
Dark wizzards' spells entwine me in ravening shackles,
And black roses draw my blood with thorns as sharp as serpent's tooth...
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.
Beyond the veil of North-Winds, I await the emissaries of the tyrant,
The wind whispering across the everlasting snows...
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.
Great worm whose tail rests in its mouth,
The circle-without-end burns bright,
Brood o'er the far night's distant vale,
And shifting heather hills wandering light.

Like snow that falls on the sea,
Like smoke that rides upon the breeze,
Like hoarfrost that melts before the sun,
Now silence broods over Lemuria...

Shimmers of black in the massing dark,
Moon-frost glistens upon my tongue,
The wraiths have gathered beneath the oak,
My soul encased in antediluvian steel,
The shades of pallid night descend,
To ride the slime-flecked jewelled halls,
Enshrined in ice and witches' spells,
And silence falls on the marble walls.

'R'acan Ahalgana chamiabac ahalmez ahatocob tocapa chiamiaholom ahchami.'

As a black moon broods over Lemuria.

Ancient cromlech carved of ice,
Etched against a glimmering sky,
Beneath the pale moonlight, the witch enthralling,
(like the sublime) scent of black lotus,
Ahiling a black sun with ebon rays,
Hailing a black moon as onyx agleam,
The dark horn sounds 'cross the nighted vale,
Shadows call in this bleak winter's dream.

I seize the throne round Dagon's stone,
Dark hordes arise 'neath winter skies,
Forged 'neath the moon, by Skulthur's tomb,
Blood-oath sealed, by frost-veiled steel.

White flames dancing on the snow,
The witch-fire gleams through Northern skies,
The frost of heather upon her tongue,
Whispering dreams of Atlantean spires,
Ruby lipped, midnight tressed, eyes as black as raven's wing,
Flesh so pale as dawn-frost gleaming,
Kisses sweet like moon-dew's tears.
Deep within the glacial ice-veiled temple,
Ancient enchantments
Summon the shades of the dreaming Serpent Kings...
And the Ophidian Throne once again draws
Power from the moon-shrouded crystal...
Mystic steel is anointed by the crimson wine of battle,
And blood reddens the gleaming snow.

Storm-borne bride of winter's fire,
Serpent-witch of the whispering fens,
Veils of scarlet and sable,
Blood spilled in the vault of night,
Frost-garlanded, the mind-binding glimmer
Of tear-filled ophidian eyes,
The gleam of winter moonlight upon black waters,
Nighted spells of the enchantress.

Scourge of Angsaar, wielder of the Black Sword,
Immortal Lord of Darkmere, Serpent-Witch ensorcle me.

Black Sun... Black Moon!

(Sagas from the antediluvian Scrolls)

Black winds whispering 'cross the fens,
In eldritch coils (jewelled and gleaming) spires entwined
Enraptured by the moon's sweet spells,
'gainst the skies of (Bleak and brooding) winter blackly etched.
The Topaz Throne of Kings is crack'd, eon'veiled, enrob'd in black,
Ensorcelled blade glimmers sunset's fire, saga-spinner, take up thy lyre.

'Thus spake the silent halls of Valusia...'

Curses borne on vampyre tongues,
Elder-fiends, o' nameless ones,
Torches glow in silver cressets,
In the Temple of the Serpent,
Waves enshroud where marble gleamed,
Spectral witch-song rides the gale,
Black wings above the land of dreams,
And silence haunts the nighted vale.
Winged dragon coiled in thrice,
Bane of flame in shadowed ice,
Flooded by the bloated moon,
The ivory worm now sleeps entombed.
Ten thousand spear-points gleaming bright,
Sharp-honed steel in pale dawn's light,
Grim-eyed legions wait brooding,
'neath the banner of the Serpent-King.
Winged dragon coiled in thrice,
Bane of flame in shadowed ice,
Flooded by the horned moon,
Awake o' worm and quit thy tomb.

'Thus spake the silent halls of Valusia...'

The Atlantean sword beckons me,
And I descend from moon-shrouded skies
Into the Tower of the Black Serpent...
Tales are told to me now in dreams,
Shadowed lyre strings,
And sweet whisperings...
The grim and glorious battles of warrior kings,
(When the earth ran red with the blood of the slain),
And the shining realm of Valusia...
Carried upon the sweet night winds,
Piercing the veil of my delirium,
I embrace the rapturous scent of black lotus.

(I hear the lament of the Immortals...)

'Ka nama kaa lajerama,
Yagkoolan yok tha xuthalla!'

And lo, I hear the beat of black leathern wings from moonless gulfs,
Dark spirits wander the silent halls of the Sapphirean Throne,
And in dreams I see the oceans rise to devour the gleaming spires,
As the shades of immortals guide me to the Valley of Silent Paths...

Black winds whispering 'cross the fens,
In eldritch coils (jewelled and gleaming) spires entwined,
Enraptured by the moon's sweet spells,
'gainst the skies of (bleak and brooding) winter blackly etched.
The topaz throne of kings is crack'd, eon'veiled enrob'd in black,
Ensorcelled blade glimmers sunset's fire,
Saga-spinner, take up thy lyre.

Thus spake the Antediluvean Scrolls.