Enthroned In The Temple Of The Serpent Kings

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

I seize the throne round Dagon's stone
Dark hordes arise 'neath winter skies
Forged 'neath the moon, by Skulthur's tomb
Blood-oath sealed, by frost-veiled steel.

White flames dancing on the snow
The witch-fire gleams through Northern skies
The frost of heather upon her tongue
Whispering dreams of Atlantean spires
Ruby lipped, midnight tressed, eyes as black as raven's wing
Flesh so pale as dawn-frost gleaming
Kisses sweet like moon-dew's tears
Deep within the glacial ice-veiled temple
Ancient enchantments
Summon the shades of the dreaming Serpent Kings...
And the Ophidian Throne once again draws
Power from the moon-shrouded crystal...
Mystic steel is anointed by the crimson wine of battle
And blood reddens the gleaming snow.

Storm-borne bride of winter's fire
Serpent-witch of the whispering fens
Veils of scarlet and sable
Blood spilled in the vault of night
Frost-garlanded, the mind-binding glimmer
Of tear-filled ophidian eyes
The gleam of winter moonlight upon black waters
Nighted spells of the enchantress.

Scourge of Angsaar, wielder of the Black Sword
Immortal Lord of Darkmere, Serpent-Witch ensorcle me.

Black Sun... Black Moon!