Return of the Old Blood

Ash on the wind Ravens in a slow black ring Runes in the

frost start to sting. He walked in the roots of

the mountain, stone dust clinging to his skin. Old scars, old steel,

old stories, breathing like a storm rolling in. Names carved deep in his shoulder,

ghost marching over his spine. Every oath he ever uttered burning like a

brand in his mind. Return of the old blood. Hear that heartbeat

shake the ground. Ancient warrior walking through the thunder sound.

Raise your horns high. Let the sky remember flame. Return of the