-    
- cifra   
Descent Into Eminent Silence
  
   Standing by ringwalls of stone
 
 Deepest dungeons
 
 Passing irongates
 
 Nor the golden sendt dreams
 
 Under towers that
 
 Once stormed in sight
 
 That never storm
 
  
  Hill.. the elder ravens
 
 Above borgs layed in fog
 
 Forget not
 
 The blasphemic nordic deeps
  
 
 Shadows... steal our souls
 
 Into what we once were
 
 I'm feeling
 
 That well be taken there
  
 
 Closed in time for those
 
 Who shall not pass our gates