O the mighty! O the dark one!

O the mighty! O the dark one!

For long, your blade knew no good;

Tearing souls and bleeding heart

Is all it could do.

You weaved a dark spell as sly as a snake

But we cared less, for this land was ours and so were these men.

Your arms grew long, stretching far wide.

It played with the soul and the spirits of the throne.

Great warriors are having wine and gold;

Clad in their own light and shadows of the old (times).

Tremors have now reached them too.

Hunting in packs is what they do.

Brothers recounting tales till dawn

Singing songs of bravery and all.

A new fire, a tempest has taken its birth

Young and the brave shall rage now!