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the ages scorn those of ebon slumber beneath scattered mounds across the moorsshattered legacies of the fallen - voices silent, yet not unheardhanging still in the evening mist their whispers lingerresounding echoes of the past poised to awaken the spirits of the truewith the chilling gaze through panes of black grasping for any sense of beinga rapture of maddening clarity - the ancestral seed begins to bloomsoil churns - awakening - rising through the decayeyes open to behold the silhouettes upon the moorclutch firm the spear passed unto us, with their wisdom we march to warthe noose is tied and waiting for long due sacrificelet it be known despite the turmoil that never shall we be one...robbed of essence are those to hang from our father's oaken armsin assurance that all once died for is never left to the worms... Aus Songtexte Mania