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Deep is the well of the past
Where matter was born in pain

Came a sphere of fire
Maker of drought and rain

Could a thing withstand its nearness
Could a soul survive its blaze
Pay a price of fading eyesight
In euphoric gaze

Paints the skies
With fine aurora
Overflies
The dormant earth

All alive
Crave for the shine

The warmth the drive
Of Muspelheim

Reflects in thousand fragments
Lost shadows in diffused light
Glows above a sheer animation
Eternally bright

Paint the sky
With fine aurora
Overfly
And wake the earth

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