Poems Of a Rooted Blade

The cold forest that surrounds me
The fog descends into this forgotten realm
My breath frozen by the minute
Everything turns to death

So many tombs arise beneath these trees
A funeral melancholy sets here
As I am driven to strange places
Where sepulchral moons arise in desolation

The elder's winds are blowing
The night profane misanthropy
Starts running into strange scars
That arise through my body

That doomed shadows from here are laughing
Tormenting me as I lay down
Toghether with my ancestors
I start to call for redemption, here…

Utopic epitaphs I read on the grey tombs
Sadness,madness all are here!
My death is real as its starts snowing
I am buried with all my fears in the ground.