The Oak

In the whirls of time
Turning their eyes
Toward the shadowy monumental
Symbols of the past
Following the lines up to the places
Where power and mystery reign
Some people raised many stones to the sun
In their imposing silence.

A warm wind is blowing in my face
Melting the ice of death.

Burnt alive victims around the cromlec'h
In honour of my immortality.

Crucified on The Oak.

My blood is trickling down it
No light in this church made of trees
Some men in white are chanting their song
To the altar of Cernunnos.

Crucified on The Oak.

Oh you God of Moon
Sanctify this magis ritual.

In my heart there's the power of glory
In my eyes the shine of the sword.

Oh you God of Death rescue me from this fear
I will be your messenger
Rescue me from this light.

Oh Mother Darkness receive the son of cruelty and wisdom
Crucified on The Oak in honour of Esus
The earth is imbued with the blood of my God's enemies
And from flames a battle-cry is madly risen.

Far away the death-song is going on with the crossing of the swords
The fog is hiding our temples made of stones
And the Gods are silently waiting for the event
The bloody encounter between our Pagan Devotion and the only god.

Ruins around The Oak
Corpses in oblivion
Sealed up by the light of reason
Oh cursed mortals which is the right way?