There's a deafning silence in this place One which creeps like death as frost permeates the landscape Freezing nothern gales redifine my knowledge of pain As roots are assaulted with upheaval, the forest whispers my name The wailing stars up above, and sleeping stones below In this land of agony ruled by tyrants of snow
Sorrow unending, crests with the moon A revelry of grief, a portent of doom The howls of wolves cut through the air like a knives Grim reminders of our past and better lives Only a war-torn remainder, plagued with a bloodsoaked mirth Testament to when heathens ruled the earth
Ravens circle overhead in the blood red sky Awaiting spiritual carrion as our souls slowly die There is no golden radiance here The sun finds no place, only hides in fear Amongst the pillars we are relinquished Before a pantheon of oak and birch Where on thrones of fire, gods perch Lightening strikes not once, but twice Honoring us in our glorious fight
To the realm of spirits we ride One by one swelling with pride To see our ancestors again We never in life, feared the end The constellations call us home And so we depart, leaving only our bones Among the sleeping stones and blackened oak