Where Death Seems To Dwell
"Through a dark and desolate valley he walksPale, flickering fires light the wayAlong an ice cold river lies his pathThe sky is of darkest grey
A cold wind pierce through his bonesAnd the sharp rocks cut his feetHis clothes and skin are ripped by thornsHis eyes appear to bleed"
The land is dead and dryThe water is poisonousUnknown creatures howling to the skyBlood chilling and ravenous
The air is thick and denseA smell of rotting fleshEvery breath is like one thousand knivesCutting through his chest
Black birds of prey circle the skyHe hears the shadows moanHe sees pale faces pass him byBut he walks this path alone
Darkness fills his heart with chilling fearA nameless fear he cannot quellHow did he ever end up here?This place where death seems to dwell
He repeats the question in his weary mindThe riddle gives him no restYet he knows the answer deep insideHe's been touched by the chill of death
Enchanting voices urge him onThough he wants to turn aroundThey sing to him with soothing wordsA chilling, frighting sound
A cold blue light shimmer aheadWhere a mountain reaches for the skyNidafiell, mountain of the deadTerrifying it's might
He approaches the gateshis heart is coldHe understands all too wellShe awaits himThe truth unfoldsHe's been sent to Nifelhel