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Black is the thought
Is the sword held up high
As the word calls the nether depths

Poisoned with might
Thrones the fury of the sundown
On the welkin of a world forlorn

At dirge arose in the still of the night
And the hallowed lay down to die

Struck by the stars
As the silence of god
Falls from the shallow trees

Vultures in wait
For the coming of the day
Prepare the graves
For the children of the dark

Cleanse the plains
Of mankinds shame
From skylits eye frozen tears descend
As we vanish in the snow

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