Winter's Gate

Slaughter Moon:

The hoar sea enfolds us
The scent of the coming winter
Hear the howl of the wind
A song from the ocean's womb
Far away behind us
Black smoke still rises high
Houses of the southern god
Broken under the iron hooves.

The time of slaughter moon
Sunless, Stareless ways
Sailing to world's end
To meet our crown or doom
The time of slaughter moon
The season of the mist
We're faring in the dark
Sinking into cold night.

The grim sea unfolds us
The scent of the burning temples
Hear the wail of the waves
A song from the hidden deep.

Far away from homely shores
And winter is on our tail
Driven by hunger and greed
Swallowed soon by the great worm.

The Golden Wolf:

And there, amidst the fog
A solemn mountain rises
Its pinnacle touching the grey sky
Silent spruces guarding the shores.

There waits a grinning prize
Worthy of legend
There waits a golden wolf
A beast with six legs.

And yet I search on
And yet I wait
To find your shadow
Amidst the darkest night.

Still I bear the flowers of pain
Still I bear the flowers of solitude.

What trick of gods is this?
Rewars and riches
Here within our reach
Yet no within our grasp.

And yet I search on
And yet I wait
To find your shadow amidst the darkest night
And yet I search on
And yet I wait
To find a place where no sorrow creeps in.

And yet it wrings me
Like a strange cold hand
And yet it burns me
Like a viper's tongue.

Better it would be
To lie on bed of silt
And watch the moon's face
From under the waves.

Better it would be
To rest on bed of mire
Inside the ocean's womb
Dreaming of days long gone.

Sunless, starless, pathless is the way.

At the Gates of Winter:

Still I bear the flowers of pain, of solitude.

And on the mountain's side
Grim-looking gates lies
Staring towards the north
Waiting in solitude.

Barring the way inside
The giant doors of stone
Not built for mortal men
Not made for us to pass.

Vile trick of ornery gods?
Rewards and riches
Right here within our reach
Not within our grasp.

I walk with my head down
Wind blows right through my waning heart
Weightless, like a bird in my arms
She looks into the bottom of my soul.

Grave tidings from the northside
Grave is the tone of this night
Weightsome the dark around us
The weight of time upon us.

No one will sing tonight
No one will leave the pyre
Dreaming of gloden wolf
Dreading the winter's might.

The Gate Opens:

Hear the sound resonate
Through your flesh
Through hte ground, across the skies
Cracking roar, a thunder's bark
Echoes here, the voice of doom
Blackened clouds now seize the welking
Wielding all of winter's ire.

And it will rise with a white voiceless face
From from the heart of earth
From under the mountain.

The stromwind engulfs us
The whirl of white and grey
The downfall is upon us
The reprisal of wantom gods.

Here at world's end we will termble
Far beyond the deceitful seas
Here we hide now, crawl to shelter
Far away from the homely shores.

And it will rise with a white voiceless face
From the heart of the earth
From under the mountain
Devouring the sun and the earth, forest an sea
Devouring us all.

Stumbling forward in knee-deep snow
The wind is whipping my face in frozen slashes.

Void of direction... void of hope...
I call her name... in the whiteout...

There amidst the raging coldness, I catch her figure
The fear of death is staring at me through her eyes.

Through the wind's howl, a scream now rises
Something moves in the whirl of snow
Creatures born out of winter's furor
Closing in on us.

Through the cave's mouth, a crack in the stone wall
I'm tearing my way right into the dark
A beast is rending the ground behind me
Kiiling all the light.

Hear the grinding... of stone against stone...
I'm crawling deeper... in the dark...

The Final Stand:

The flames is weak and frail
A circle of shiverin men
Enclosed by endless coldness
The evernight, eternal dark.

The moan of undying winds
Now merged with hollow screaming
The fire dies in a sngle breath
The en has come.

Out of the darkness, out of the cold
Out of the night, they have come
Cruel is the laughter, cruel is the fate
Cruel is the winter's will.

Merciless is th fray
Bitter the final stand
Perdition and ruin
The icy grip now traps them
Right here at the world's end
The forst of death will take them all.

The lords of the high seas
Are smitten down into snow
No way to bear the fury
No way to ward off all the fiends.

Devouring the sun and the earth
Devouring the forest and sea.

Devouring us all

Into the Sleep:

Sing a quiet song to me
Sing of spring and sing of sea
Sing a silent song to me
Sing of hope and sing of sleep.