Frostbitten from FrostBitten Apocalypse by Kvele

In the mist, the snow falls cold
A battlefield, where blood runs old
Smoke rises, from the burning pyres
A war, with no end, no desires
In the conflict, we find our strength
In the despair, we go to any length
With blood on our hands, we'll fight
Towards eternal doom, with all our might
The snow is stained, with the red of war
Our enemies, we'll mow to the core
With the mist as our cloak, we'll strike
Victory, our only like
In the smoke, we'll make our stand
With blades in hand, we'll conquer this land
The eternal doom, it draws near
But we'll face it, without fear
In the mist, the snow falls cold
But our fight for survival, will never grow old
We'll march to war, with strength in our hearts
Towards eternal doom, we'll make our mark

• Black Metal
• Greece
• Metal
• Raw Black Metal
• Athens