Years gone, but my trail did last;
a rightful throne from an ice-cold past,
time to claim back what I have earned,
Freljord, your queen has returned.
Bells of the lonely Greywing,
a mourning dirge they slowly ring,
the curtain falls
as the face of yours
sees its own
and by its pressure,
your soul is nailed.
by the water magic guided,
in between the sands and trees
of island, peaceful tribe resided.