In the Side of Eternal Eclipse

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The wolves howls in Moncayo's summit And the snow falls covering the old Templars chapel It sounds a prayer in All Saints day,and the fog spreads its cold hands trough the ancient medieval cementery Where the ancient knights rest in peace But in the Anima's Mount,there's a young girl running under the white full moonlight alone among dark forests of nude trees where all the nights the deceased spirits rides... A night in Templars Mount Phantasmagoric spectres of warriors who reborn in the heart of nocturn silence,oppening the doors of graveyard the spirits covered with their shrounds,awakes in this cold night And walks throught forgotten paths like a ghosts horde A night in the Templars mount legends and fables are real,and under Montecayo's shade The wolves howls once again funeral songs Appointing a new death Sings the Lamias into the deep forest,and a pale girl is crying in a mislaid tomb when the spirits raise one night more In The Templars Mount [Based in Beequer's "Leyenda de Soria"]

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 24, 2025

Comes the night to the mountains and the winds blow among ancient forests Where darkness raise in the crepuscle hours And like a nocturnal sun, the Moon spreads her mystical veils through hills and valleys in this winter days Witches fly in the Iberian sky towards the unholy congregation arround ancient dolmens witness of forgotten ceremonys And awaking again forbbiden songs...close to the blaze That light the Cantabric nights We are sons of the dusk,ejectet to the dark lands We are the race damned by de christian priests Comes the night to the woods and the hills, and the feeling the breath of de horned God We embrace the old natural cult with pagan rites Under this dark sky thad govern our infrahuman suffering

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 24, 2025

Dark clouds cover the sky and the gloomy hibernal nights, pleny of legents come back to the forests Iced mountains return to my eyes together with the vision of morbid lands Black birds fly though forsaken cementerys,where the fog spreads its cold land Bells call christians and Moon call ghosts And among nude trees walks the Santa Compana Arid, open up the Castilla tableland where the winds blow legend whispers under a hibernal white Moon The Sorcerers are gathered in an Aquelarre to the God of the Moon like in Goya square Falls the snow in December days and cover the savage forest where the shadows of winter dance under a nocturnal Moon Forgotten in time ,the trees open their hands And my soul fly in a eternal abyss of dark hate Trough this mystical lands In black winter days

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 24, 2025

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