Within The Sylvan Realms Of Frost

Snow Falls Upon The Darkest Scenes Of Winter

Falling Into Unfathomed Depths

Below The Tree Line Of The Vast Forest

Icy Streams Flow As Silently As

The Approaching Foot Falls Of Death

Only The Rustling Of Leaves

From A Single Northern Breeze May Be Heard

Here Dwell The Great Warlocks,

The Conjurers Of Winter's Demons

Dark Ones As Ancient As The Eldest Trees

Of The Mighty Forest

They Chant The Spells Of First Snow

Which Echo Throughout These Ancient Sylvan Realms

Awakening The Sleeping Demons

Of The Perpetual Winter Woods

Under The Magnificence Of The Winter Full Moon

Demons With Souls As Cold As The Winter Winds

And Dark As The Night That Birthed Them

The Black Robed Mages Spill Their Own Blood

In Sacrifice To The Dark Harbringers Of Winter's Gale

Upon This Blood The Demons Drink

Quenching Their Great Thirst

Through This Rebirth Comes The Return

Of Their Cryptic Powers Of Old

Now All Must Succumb To Winter's Dark Fold

Or Be Torn Asunder By It's Icy Talons