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

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