Is it not ironic
|
How your favorite dread
|
Is the matrix in which you were formed
|
The unfathomable dark
|
Of a realm arcane and burrowed far below
|
|
The grain sprouts from deep 'neath the soil
|
Where sunlight will never ever reach
|
|
Behold
|
From darkness we come
|
That shelter where all life is formed
|
Ascend
|
To darkness we sail
|
Eternal refuge of the soul
|
|
The darkness of night goes out
|
When dawn befalls in the time between the times
|
And the grain in the soil, buried deep
|
Shall not bear fruit unless it dies
|
In the dark of Antumnos
|
The Awen waves and life is conceived
|
|
The day is born from the night
|
In the three night of Samon the year is born
|
So the song has been sung
|
Let him hear it who will
|
|
Is it not ironic
|
How you cling so hard
|
To all evidence of all there is
|
As you maintain your unbroken urge
|
To explain what you can't
|
|
The child grows in its mother's womb
|
Enshrouded and concealed
|
|
-----------------
|
From Darkness
|
| Eluveitie |
