1. |
No Warmth
11:18
|
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You gave me, you gave me no warmth.
From mountain, from mountain tops
the world it, it seems so far.
Sun gives me no glimpse of hope.
I've been climbing for too long.
Inside the day, there dwells the night.
Time embraces me. I had to go
into your picture of white.
Only mountains know
and wait with me for the end to come.
All my efforts were in vain.
Endlessly I have to roam.
I will never know where to go
I don't know how to remain sane.
So I wait on the frozen plain
and the end is growing,
it's growing in my pain.
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2. |
Dwellers of Mist
12:30
|
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You, who overpower me.
You, who never leave me be
in peace.
You have always made me run
deeper into myself,
deeper into abyss.
You, who remain on the edge of the cold.
You, who never let me bleed.
But in bleeding I could find my peace.
Made of my deepest fears.
A snow-buried violence.
Always watching as I disappear
in ravaging silence.
Made of my darkest sorrows.
A snow-buried violence.
You have always been me
self-dismantling power.
|
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3. |
A Reign of Night
03:33
|
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The silence is and always was in the wind,
bleeding out like an ice from its freezing limbs.
Like a throne made of an airy fibers.
A drug of solitude, a raging thunder.
I gaze into void as it gazes back into me.
The strongest call, of them all, an epiphany.
A voice that never fades and flows from within the mist.
I am and always was one the abyss.
A reign of night ends.
A reign of night begins.
|
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4. |
||||
The wait
seems like forever.
Like it could never
really go away.
Salvation,
it never happens.
It never rains here.
and sun, it never shines aswell.
No other soul in this realm.
The paths lead to nowhere.
No home to go back to.
No destination to seek.
I feel your name on my skin.
This cold touch of steel.
The warmth of blood,
a word of comfort that I sought.
Deep in my heart I still am trapped.
I never escaped this cold ranges.
Deep in my heart I still walk towards the call
of empty passes, silent trails.
|
Ennoven Warsaw, Poland
Music of the woods, swamps and empty mountain trails.
Searching for God in the universe that
seems to be cold and hollow.
Made in concrete forests of Warsaw.
---
Member of the Black Rite Tribe.
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