A Tale Of Pagan Tongue


The sun descended to the ground

Behind the mountains, in the sea

A one-eyed man wanders sullen to the highest hill

There he will survey over those surviving will

The flaming shores are yet unseen

In spite of dawn, the horizon sleeps

The sea gleams with lethal cold

Witness yourself here, alone yet bold

The night is born, the christlings thorn

The sun seems dead and somehow forlorn

And the moon lurks above

The beasts they howl her song

Told to be unchained at the day of doom

Their random laws, taught by the Gods

Are to be redeemed when He sets sail

There will forever be this ancient tounge

Primal wisdom from natures own longue

Count the shores of the utter coast

And fear peace forever most

When time is ripe to revive the past

Let us see who stands triumphant

The echoes of cosmic strife

Borne to the one-eyed man

By the ravens of reminiscence