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Katabasis—the shroud of day and dusk,
Where the fortress surrenders in the wolf-willow’s musk.
A weapon of cruelty was swiftly appeased,
In the kingdom of cruelty, scorched flesh and disease.

The earth shakes, and fall
The sorrowful faces of mountain walls
From that black cloud of misery,
That yet, bore the scent of victory…

Katharmos—yields wounded skies
It runs, the flood of crimson blood
And draws me close to feast my eyes.
The imperilment was cruelty’s intent,
And Wolf-Willow boughed in nocturnal lament.

It tipped weighty totality, it disturbed the quintessential
Entropic balance between vitality and demise.
To release the mountain’s destructive potential.

Stone and ice, carve and cleave!
The red rift widens; upheave, upheave!
When the stones, enslaved, agonize!
These empty hands, once bound, now forge
They scrape and carve the Wapta Gorge;
Scraping and carving the Wapta gorge
…Within the gorge, timpanist resound….
These empty hands once bound!

Resounding timpani,
Cleave!

As red rifts widen,
Upheave, Upheave!
When the stones, enslaved agonize.
Raise thy standards,
Hail might!
Cleave the stones and cut the night
Scraping, and carving the Wapta Gorge.
I have ascended; ensanguined, crowned
Victorious, Crowned and triumphant!

Majesty! The Maw:
Majesty and awe!
Wapta!

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Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.