The sun descended to the ground
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Behind the mountains, in the sea
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A one-eyed man wanders sullen to the highest hill
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There he will survey over those surviving will
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The flaming shores are yet unseen
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In spite of dawn, the horizon sleeps
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The sea gleams with lethal cold
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Witness yourself here, alone yet bold
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The night is born, the christlings thorn
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The sun seems dead and somehow forlorn
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And the moon lurks above
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The beasts they howl her song
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Told to be unchained at the day of doom
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Their random laws, taught by the Gods
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Are to be redeemed when He sets sail
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There will forever be this ancient tounge
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Primal wisdom from natures own longue
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Count the shores of the utter coast
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And fear peace forever most
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When time is ripe to revive the past
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Let us see who stands triumphant
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The echoes of cosmic strife
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Borne to the one-eyed man
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By the ravens of reminiscence
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A Tale Of Pagan Tongue
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| Borknagar |