the flesh and the nerves and the black seers raised hearts still pulsating to unnamable Gods for their obscure prophecies. Prepare now your soul for the embrace of the sacred
Feel the breeze on my face the icy breath of the Goddess. I raise my hand and touch the illusion. My mind is powerful and my Ego is high as the mountain
the wicked ignorance of the Lambs of god. In my devotion the sign of Voor. In my devotion the sacred Tor. The circle of power be a sacred place, shield
In the whirls of time, turning their eyes toward the shadowy monumental symbols of the past, following the lines up to the places, where power and mystery
I raise my eyes at dead of night I hear the silence moulding my body I hear the damp and living ground throbbing I belong to it. I'm the guardian of this
The fresh humidity of the green moss wets my skin, my body laying down, as it suits to who adores a god, over the sacred stones of the Cromlec'h. Our
: The fresh humidity of the green moss wets my skin, my body laying down, as it suits to who adores a god, over the sacred stones of the Cromlec?h. Our
: Feel the breeze on my face the icy breath of the Goddess. I raise my hand and touch the illusion. My mind is powerful and my Ego is high as the mountain
: I raise my eyes at dead of night I hear the silence moulding my body I hear the damp and living ground throbbing I belong to it. I'm the guardian of
: In the whirls of time, turning their eyes toward the shadowy monumental symbols of the past, following the lines up to the places, where power and
