Following the lanterns glow
we have reached the passage of night
Burning clear from the mist of the years
no more a stride for his longing soul

Turning paths to the oldest of misery
His hearts contempt
The black sun on its billows
The prophecy - freezing his flesh

The cry of reversed star disappears
falling to the mother’s cold arms
Burning the trees wreath, once ever-green
the golden cloak to ash

[i]And all the north winds
cease their howl
Remembering
The fires of the shore

Burning his heart
with their dismal calling
The shroud of death falls
and cold aeons await[/i]

Our torches dim and pale
over the ever-descending night
what is to [bad word] and remembered
is only here to pass

As the darkness will fall upon us