VED BUENS ENDE - Written In Waters

I Sang For The Swans

...Went away with my fathers, to gather the fallen.
To return with the wisdom of the kings...
Let me dream. (Let the jewels gleam)
Let the fallen hear:
"It never rains around here."
The sand smothered on my chest...
Was music choir...

It will never leave...
...the scar...
The choir will never leave.
Sing for the lurker.
Sing for the one with horns.
We pity the feathers,
we devour the wing...
I sang for the swans.
I raped her on her throne.

Let the fallen...
Let the fallen hear.
"It never rains around here."
The sane, with its beautiful voices....
A choir. Leave... leave the misery of the swans.
the swans, smothered on our chests,
Was music... choir...

You, That May Wither

A distant cry...
From what I perished for?
It was born...
The winterburden.
I bled its tears once...
Oh, if only it could wither,
wither in the absence of my thoughts.

So I cry...

I cry, not only for my spirit in its living shell.
But for the ones who brought the lust through me...

It's Magic

Admire it in its sleep.
Wounded, and embraced by dreams.
Whatever wanders in these depths,
it shall carry along.
This shore is for the throne...

I am forever.

A storm, but ever so fearless it wandered.

Fear me, wherever it stands,
from here...

I was the storm.

It's magic, wounded one...

Den Saakaldte

Listen, hear my demons dance
after a view and a fallen star, they gather.

Look, see my demons gleam
they've brought us stains and my bubbles bother.

Drifting us futher away
really seems like a rainy day...

Carrier Of Wounds

I slumber throught my years, 
like the desert moves with the wind.
Frozen and flickering, 
the lustful year has met its end.

A wanderer I am indeed...
...the son of the moon...
and I will carry mountains soon.

A burden I was for those who woke the sun.
I threw their masks away, 
lit my torches and burned their eyes.

Forgiven I never was.

But I will carry mountains soon.
A burden, is it not?

Kneeling I chose my faith,
while they lit the sun, 
and flew naked and blind over my desert fields.


Coiled In Wings

A shelter for me in the storm,
to faint, and see ravens fly.
I am the one worthy, to carry those born with wings.

Swim with me, meet my dreamking...

See my broken wings,
and my feathers
the dust in my eyes.

My beautiful wounds are open
for you to see my dreams...

A withering thought for the desert storm...

Autumn Leaves

Autumn witches standing barefoot in the sea.
Singing songs that even brought the devil to his knees.

We shall inherit the time...
Like the thunder stands for comfort.
With the dancer in our dreams.

Autumn witches mesmerizing leaves to flee.
Dancing dances that even gods 
and undreamt dreams would wish to see.

We shall inherit the soil...
Like the one who wants our songs to end.
The one who perishes on moonlit fields.

We are the daughters of the one 
With broken wings and horns....

And the winterking shall be the one 
Who carries the burden of the thorns.

Remembrance Of Things Past

This sweetness that surrounded us, and bled with us...
We touched it, and it smelt far worse than weeds...

I have touched winds...
I have touched sorrows...
(I touched the devil once...)

...and I have touched the past...

It was like the love of thorns, like the beauty of dead summer.
But I, the lurker, the carrier of wounds outlived.
I have left now. (Have I not?)

The thorns embraced us,
while resemblance dragged us further down.
It burried our minds.

None shall outlive this rhyme...

To Swarm Deserted Away

I swarm deserted away, like glass...
Warm, and as fevers,
I am as flame.
I am death...
For I, I weave our blasphemies...

Wicthes painted me,
Like the mysteries created me...
Like where the poets breathe,
I were woven into blasphemies.