At The End Of Their Slumber

The stars are drawing
The old signs in the night
Eyes that have slept for aeons
Are now awakened by (our) unearthly hymns
The unholy ones have dreamt
While waiting dead

Chaos itself is awakening as well
His eyes gleaming grim
Towards the usurped sphere
Those of the cross
Shall taste the wrath (of aeons)
In horror and deserved tremendous woe

For forgotten disasters
Have to happen once again
Their paths are the olden stars
Our summonings are now being
From cold distant thrones
Where nothing dwells

That which was millennia ago
Can return once again to reign
But that which has been weak
Can only disappear in shame
Die to never be again