Thunder Over the Sacred Grove

Deep in the forest where the old fires glow,
Rivers run black where the wild winds blow.
Axes are raised under moonlit skies,
Ancient spirits open their eyes.

Carved wooden idols stand in the rain,
Whispering names through blood and flame.
From the fields to the frozen streams,
Slavic gods walk through our dreams.

Under the oak, under the storm,
A thousand tribes in iron are born.
Drums in the dark, fire in the bone,
We rise where the sacred seeds are sown.

Thunder over the sacred grove,
Perun strikes from the sky above.
Fire and steel, river and stone,
The ancient Slavs will stand alone.

Thunder over the sacred grove,
Through the night the war horns blow.
Veles waits where shadows crawl,
The old gods answer to the call.

Wolf-skin warriors guard the land,
Ash and blood on every hand.
Songs of winter, songs of war,
Echo from the temple door.

Mokosh weaves the thread of fate,
Through the mist at the forest gate.
Serpent roots beneath the ground,
Hear the buried thunder sound.

Under the oak, under the storm,
A thousand tribes in iron are born.
Syncopated drums split the night,
Firelit faces ready to fight.

Thunder over the sacred grove,
Perun strikes from the sky above.
Fire and steel, river and stone,
The ancient Slavs will stand alone.

Thunder over the sacred grove,
Through the night the war horns blow.
Veles waits where shadows crawl,
The old gods answer to the call.

Tritone curse in the forest air,
Polyphonic screams like a pagan prayer.
Speed metal blades through the winter mist,
Iron and thunder in a clenched fist.

Perun! Veles! Mokosh! Flame!
The sacred earth remembers the name.
Perun! Veles! Forest! Storm!
From ancient roots the fire is born.

Drums strike hard like axes fall,
Echoing through the wooden hall.
Ravens circle, wolves reply,
Smoke ascends into the sky.

Thunder over the sacred grove,
Perun strikes from the sky above.
Fire and steel, river and stone,
The ancient Slavs will stand alone.

Thunder over the sacred grove,
Through the night the war horns blow.
Veles waits where shadows crawl,
The old gods answer to the call.

Ash to earth and flame to sky,
The old gods sleep but never die.
In every storm, in every stone,
The sacred grove still guards the throne.