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Wyrgþu - text

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The dead are like an ocean stilled
Friend and foe alike in oblivion's embrace
And still we cannot cast aside our arms and rest
Poisoned by the venom of belief
Cast flailing into the crucible of fate
By the negligence of dying gods
That like decrepit beasts, have thrown their bodies down
Their feral might relinquished, succumbing to decay

Where rivers once roared and churned their course
The shadows of the clouds are all that seem to move
A burnished glow of fires on the seared horizon
The flicker of embers around our feet
Ashes of meaning drift beyond our broken grasp
Fireflies against an endless wound of night
A wasteland of embittered ghosts
And the interment of our feeble hopes

Draw down the wrathful storm to cleanse this ruined world
And wash away man's ignobility
Pray for atonement and the agonies to come
So that those who follow may find a better path

The storms I call to bear us
To the mercy of the void
Even in death
Our blood will nourish the bounty of your Spring

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