Raventhrone

The corpse of the ancient cradled in red
Lies at the bottom of this ice cold lake
Here it now dwells and ready for the stand
Deep in the mountains where but unlight hangs
The grace of malice adorns them now
For what they were even hell to them bows...
Deep malice adorned fruit of the olden empire,
Soon, as midnight's dusky hour dawns
And senseless the wanderer rests in silence
This is the tree of paradise
Where you shall fall again
I am the three-faced king of the first dominion
The watcher in the twilight, the keeper of the chasm...
Friendly it is to sleep in silence's whisper