Frozen, neath the stars,
I sense my time has come
Lying broken, tom,
Can you feel once more
How the sullen sea
Of hay that used to be
Our site of sacred rites, now of
Lament, scorn and spite?

No hope left for me,
No fear, no reprieve
No Valkyrie shall reach down
For I remain unfound
Since you left my arms
And sailed to the stars
No hope left for me,
No fear, no reprieve

Listening to the winds
Play the strangling strings,
Aeolian harp
Smothering my heart
With its voice of woe,
Despondent in tone,
A theme to fit the scene,
Doom made so serene

It's so cold,
The languid touch of loneliness
In a time of such demise,
Wading through to an emptiness
And behold,
The waves of falling stars herald,
Scarring the skies above,
The process must now have begun

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