Lonely wolfes are howling to the moon.
   A shining fire burns in the night and a man prepares
   his horse for war. Betrayed by his friends, banned by his tribe
   they tortured him to die but his rage will come to them.
   His mind is fullfilled with hate, his sword is like a silverlight.
   Death and pain to those who had betrayed him. With a final prayer
   to his gods he rides to his last battle to find his fate named
   revenge to his tribe.
  
   Death is his aim, rage is his life, his black blood streams
   through fired veins. In a black night he came like a demon to
   his tribe, killed those who had banned him to the desert.
   Ripping flesh and bones, drinking enemies blood, screamings
   in the air, but he is laughing.