Amdist the black of the night Awash with the silver winter brath Amidst the depths of snows Attired in the icy shroud You stand under the stars Gazing into the black eptiness Hearken! The wind has spoken One that carries the smell of d**h It weaves the stories of countless full moons Of dead worlds covered with mist of oblivion It tempts with the stories of keeps Cut in the granite cliffs Of distant icy domains You listen to stories And cross the gates of your last journey One that is filled with pain and desire Fuelled by grim moan of millennial forests You arrive at the end of your journey Fulfilling your destiny and fate