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.