Luyện nghe bài hát Enthroned in The Temple of The Serpent Kings

Ancient cromlech of ice,
Etched a glimmering sky,
the pale moonlight, the witch enthralling,
(like the sublime) scent of lotus,
Ahiling a sun with ebon rays,
Hailing a black moon as agleam,
The dark horn sounds 'cross the vale,
Shadows in this bleak winter's dream.

I the throne round dagon's stone,
Dark hordes 'neath winter skies,
Forged the moon, by skulthur's tomb,
sealed, by frost-veiled steel.

White dancing on the snow,
The witch-fire through northern skies,
The frost of upon her tongue,
Whispering of atlantean spires,
Ruby lipped, midnight tressed, eyes as black as wing,
so pale as dawn-frost gleaming,
Kisses sweet like tears.
within the glacial ice-veiled temple,
Ancient
Summon the of the dreaming serpent kings...
And the throne once again draws
Power from the crystal...
steel is anointed by the crimson wine of battle,
And blood the gleaming snow.

Storm-borne of winter's fire,
of the whispering fens,
Veils of and sable,
Blood spilled in the of night,
Frost-garlanded, the mind-binding
Of ophidian eyes,
The gleam of moonlight upon black waters,
spells of the enchantress.

Scourge of angsaar, wielder of the sword,
Immortal lord of darkmere, ensorcle me.

sun... black moon!