Thrawsunblat - Dead of Winter lyrics

I: Spoke The Huntress “Hail, Metachthonic! You there! Chthonic human in This post-natural world. You stand in isolation From the verdant Gaian nation. All you! Welcome To Metachthonia! Thoughtbuilt walls hold you all You've risen from the Earth long after it Birthed the age where cold light Shines above Sun-warmth. You stand in isolation from the Verdant Gaian nation. Though stalwart, cold Logic is not enough for the pyric human to Thrive and burn. If in the valley of the spirit ice Lies across the river, it's never in breaking Through the ice. It's in the burning of the brand —in the warming of the land—that ice will Lift. All you! Welcome to Metachthonia! Those Without fire have kept you from burning Brighter II: The Bone Hand At the black edge of defeat, shatter the bones Of your adversary. And howl out to the glowing night; Drink deep its immortality. Before we go into The ground—before the bone hand drags us in —seek the moments of euphoria, the fires that Light the great hall of a life. Relentless pursuer Of enigma, incessant as the snow that falls Stand, lungs aflame, over your prey. Drink Deep of burning clarity III: Topos, Mythos, Anthropos “Huntress! I feel so cold, so tired. I've always Charged, I've never baulked. But now the Summit seems so far. Huntress! Have you ever Been, so cold and tired, like the dead of Winter?” “Metachthonic, you are weathered Not broken. Be-cause it is dark will there never Be light? Because it is cold will there never be Warmth? It is not the dead of winter. It is the heart of Winter. Know you not the land on which you Tread? For, under the snow, a heart beats hard Can you not see its image in the self? Run With me. We will hunt the spirit of the land. In The solar glow, we will hunt. Hunt with me Where topos, mythos, anthropos* collide. Woven to Our souls we take our prize. Hear its beating Heart; see the ice lift off the river. Weave this Tapestry to adorn the great hall of life