Mightiest am I, but I am not alone in this cosmos of mine
For the black hills consists of black souls, souls that already died one
thousand deaths
Behind the stone walls of centuries they breed their
black art
Boiling their spells in cauldrons of black gold
Far up in the mountains, where the rain fall not far, yet the sun cannot reach
The wizards, my servants, summon the souls of macrocosm
No age will escape my wrath
I travel through time and I return to the future
I gather wisdom now lost
I visit again the eternally ancient caves
before a mighty Emperor thereupon came Watching the mortals "discovering" my chronicles
guarded by the old demons, even unknown
to me
Once destroyed their souls are being summoned to my timeless prison of hate
It is delightful to feast upon the screaming souls
that was destroyed in my future
How many wizards that serve me with evil I know not
My empires has no limits
From the never ending
mountains black, to the bottomless lakes
I am [bad word] and has been for eternity's long
My wizards are many, but their essence is
mine
Forever there are in the hills in their stone homes of
grief
Because I am the spirit of their existence
I am them.