🎵 Luyện Nghe Bài Hát: Land Of The Dead - Summoning

 Where forest stream went  the wood
  silent all the stens there stood
 of tall trees,  hanging dark
 with mottled shadows  their bark
 
 as faint as deepest sleeper's 
 an echo  as cold as death
  are the paths, of shadow made
 where no foot's print is ever 
 
 No moon  there, no voice, no sound
 of beating  a sigh profound
 
 once in each age as each age 
 alone is heard. Far, far it 
 the  of Waiting where the Dead sit,
 in their thought's shadow, by no  lit.
 
 Upon  plain, there rushed forth and high
 Shadows at the dead of night and mirrored in the 
 
 Far far away  might of day
 And there lay the  of dead of mortal cold decay