Luyện nghe bài hát A Black Moon Broods Over Leumria

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

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

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

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

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

Winter moonlight through crooked boughs,
The icy caress of entwines the eon-veiled obsidian tower,
The whisperings of ancient are borne upon the winds,
Dark time-lost hold the key to the frost veiled gate of the black moon...

And in the ethereal mists of winter dreams,
The ebon waters of enlightment gleam 'neath the moon,
And the valley of the silent beckons...

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

The whisperer in crystal in dreams,
Of silken shadows, and the softest of dark enchantment.
Of cyclopean temples, raising jewelled spires to the stars.
The is in the moon,
And brooding silence over the woods.
My storm-forged sword (stained the blood of a thousand slain foes),
by eon-veiled incantations.
Dark spells entwine me in ravening shackles,
And black roses draw my blood with as sharp as serpent's tooth...
I fall the rapturous embrace of sloe-eyed witches,
The moon upon their ivory bosoms,
And descend into the still, icy of the lakes.
Beyond the veil of north-winds, I the emissaries of the tyrant,
The wind whispering across the snows...
My slumber is as as a wolf's.

Serpents coil ramparts
Of jewelled cities,
Wolves of winter's moon are
The temples of the gods.
Great worm whose rests in it's mouth,
The circle-without-end bright,
Brood the far night's distant vale,
And shifting heather hills light.

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

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

'r'acan chamiabac ahalmez ahatocob tocapa chiamiaholom ahchami.'

As a moon broods over lemuria.