[ANGMAR]

Far beyond north, at the nexus of horrid winds
There was a light, bright and shimmering
On its breast, sealed by jewels of unholy ice
Darkness was blacker, and deeper the pain
Without tears and blood: a cold statue crystallized
By aeons of hate and parsecs of winter
Far sunken from the sick breath of sun
Still as the silence under freezing web of stars
The grand white gods were sleeping
And their dreams were the crown of mountains
Unraped and pure as a translucent skin
But some words were said
In southern plague that comes to lie and to destroy
The woe-begone speech of a swarming crucible
Pain took forms and colours
And the northern light cried his first tears
Which fall on earth to melt with soil
And blood of the pride and pale men
A black fog enshroud their dying breath
Death was coming on the aisles of times
The night armies, merged in one arm
The one of Argael, a wisdom called hate!
They have brought us angels, we create daemons
What are they looking for between walls of flesh
And vanishing horizons? Incarcerate the dead
Or be murdered by their icon engraved on thy brow
Like a second breath from a blood universe
An hurling stone, and the sound of light
Were his hammer and his deathdealer sword
To create the white and pure cell unawaited
Argael took lives and lives
To give gods what they should have lost