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

 Where forest stream went  the wood
 and  all the stens there stood
 of  trees, moveless, hanging dark
 with mottled shadows on their 
 
 as faint  deepest sleeper's breath
 an echo  as cold as death
 Long are the paths,  shadow made
  no foot's print is ever laid
 
 No moon is  no voice, no sound
 of  heart; a sigh profound
 
 once in  age as each age dies
 alone is heard. Far,  it lies
 the Land of Waiting where  Dead sit,
 in their  shadow, by no moon 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 land of dead of  cold decay