The Dire Womb Of Winter

The pale words on the lips of winter
Echoing in the whirling dusk
Circling the shroud of this temple
The fallen snow quiet as the sky
The storm made its shelter
Where the mist hovered paths

"Where she wanders, endlessly
Opening magickal pathways"

Clothed in the glare of winter moons
and the endless summer nights
Her hair like floating stream
Lonely gilded rooms of autumn in her eyes

We are eternally returning
Where her dreaming steps resound

Under the grey wooden lid sealed by ever-frost
A coffin cloaked in white by the first snow

Where autumn leaves fell
Like words unspoken
Torn from the Dire Womb of winter