Of Carnage And A Gathering Of The Wolves

Somewhere in the lightless, labyrinthine depths of the darkenhold forest
Who are you, wanderer?
I can't remember.

The wolves are gathering
The stars are shifting
Come, join us in the hunt.

What arboreal augury be this?
Has the realm verdant at last seen the countenance
Of the scourge born of prophecy?
What is thy scheme, zyl-zyn-horhuz?

Who are you, wanderer?
I have the scent
Gaze into the mists
Feel the earth thawing beneath your feet
Come, bring down the prey.

The wolves are gathering
The stars are shifting
This spectre at the feast
This nectar of the vine.

Look at the power you possess
See the might which you wield!
You know who you are, do you not?

Yes, i am the scythe in the field at summer
I am the thunder that awakens the earth
I am that which gives the night air its chill
Who are you, wanderer?

I am far beyond the ken of men
My gaze shall make the night tremble!

So dour a mien, let all night's fulgors flame
Behold, the ghost of a king as yet unborn!
He is the scourge, the thanatos, the cleansing fire, the purifying storm
He is the cataclysm given corporeal form!
Be wary that your progeny does not consume thee
Zyl-zyn-horhuz... The voice of the night!

Who are you, my son?
Father... I am annihilation incarnate!