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Kalde Vinter Of RuinThrough the snows of the Astal Fog Valley Grayhaired Horizons And the Distance won't tell a word No sigh of sadness would ever sound here... The ones enwinged to fly are aiming to... The boards of DrakkarSoul have overrun the wailing Wind Upon the pathways of the Thirsty Moon To Ride the Way Behind the doors of Soul When his body is caressed by the flames He would cut the silence of the Distance With the Only Breath into the Roaring Mouths of Depths |