كلمات Adrift in the Sepulchral Snow

Adrift in the Sepulchral Snow Embers of the sun drenched by my eyes I feed on my hatred for the light (Yet) my sempiternal tears I would not douse Silent was the scream crossing my blue lips I cursed this feeble shell of mine Dreaming over the coldest hills How could I ever join the hunt A mortal stone around my neck When the forest choked on my frozen self No axe would ever chip my flesh away Others would soon follow and wage my war But tjose were of the kind breathing the Art I would remain untouched, martyr of a new age A morbid monument to their greater glory Solid tears fled from my eyes My limbs torn by the north frost