At the end of the world
Where the spirit gnaws the bone
Ashes strewn across the last bastion
The fire has grown old
Winter has beset us
The embers flies wearily against the sky
An impending wall of crushing cold

The moon cries no more for her visionaries
The mystics of grief
The sun no longer cherishes his children of light
The prophets of radiant knowledge
Solitary moans emanates from the ruins
Of once prould strongholds
The shield is shattered and the spear is broken

Dreams of the past triumphs
Armour-clad, marching through the marshes
At dawn the sun hazily spears the mist
Through blood and labour
And greeted by moon and trumpet as clear as
The morning dew
From the towers gleaming in stars of the eve

So let us sit in our rags by the last embers
Its final light sets afire our dreams
And visions possess us with sorrow
The last light has flickered out
Come now, lay down beside me
In the now cold halls of our forebears
And surrender to the grip of darkness
And (eternal) winter

You parched mouth of sky
Rolled up like a scroll, you offer no solace
Apathetic, watching unbroken chains of woe
The silent machinery of horror
Grinding away endlessly on these plains
Upon this field I will set the first stone
A monument to the first defiance

Cursed skin, endlessly trudging
Through mud and dead stars alike
Ascending through storm clouds
On the stairs of uncreation
Fist and sword raised in spite, ablaze in purest hate
I tighten the grip on the throat of these stars
Suffocating the lustrous evil eyes
Of the falsely exalted

Now all lie dead by my hand
Hurled out into the cold void
I sheathe my wrath and drift into silent slumber
Dreaming of verses featureless

Strange whispers emanates from the ruins
A low hum of malignant breath,
Out of the darkness a dark song arise
A word of dominion beckons creation
Promulgation of vile matter once again
Cast down to the pits of existence
Awake in the ossuary and over yonder
Screeching in disharmony
The wheel turns…

The awning is breached
The dance of light across the sky has frozen
Death masks gloating and dripping from above
Every drop a gateway of shadows
Into what is not
From the mouth of the deep
The strange calm beckons
A silent world void of dissent
Cold air fills black lungs
The jaw of uncreation opens
And vapour rises as the old world soul diminish
A false breath, a pulse in the cold
Absorbing the marrow of stars
The mightiest tower of the gods fall now
Curse the word itself
Let silence again fall upon these waters
Curse the word itself
Let silence ring out upon these waters
Still and dreaming
Be still now
Be still

Uddrevet fra munde frådende
Udformet til væren fra fordærvelsen
Ånder uden øjne til at se harver jorden
Nye skygger skabes, kastet ind i de forarmede himle
Fyldt med stjerner uden form

Osende gab i den fænomenologiske jord
Tænder knejsende mod de forpestede skyer
Forbandelser ruller ind fra alle kardinale hjørner
De tager form i nye rædsler og lagdes i den gispende jord
Fyldt med stjerner uden form

Fængslet i denne verden med lyset berøvet
Lænker i tusmørkets favn, solen stedt til hvile
Skyerne fortættes og forsamles nu,
En sidste stille aftensang for denne verden, jeg drømmer ej mere;
Blot om stjerner uden form