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.