| I am an echo, a lightless beacon in a cutting storm
|
| An empty shell within a maze straying back and forth
|
| A thought that never vanished
|
| A wound that would never heal
|
| I have been northbound months and years in hiemal
|
| Winds that cut like spells
|
| Briskly they enfold the leafless tree
|
| This will be the end of all
|
| Endless nights
|
| A barren heart
|
| In dreadful morrow
|
| Defoliation
|
| And here I am
|
| In my Wintertide of Faith
|
| What have I become?
|
| I’m a shadow!
|
| A relentless mirage
|
| Dire circles of reminiscence
|
| So distant now what once did lie so clear at hand
|
| A rout I can’t atone
|
| A wound that would never heal
|
| Counting hours, years in desolate
|
| Who chose failure now will have to live with it
|
| Dreams ignite
|
| And die… by the fireside
|
| And in night-time longing and Wintertide reveries
|
| In a slumber, in a dream, in the glistening white I see
|
| And in night-time longing and Wintertide reveries
|
| In the welkin, in a breeze, in crystalline euphony
|
| But tonight, only clamour and dismay
|
| Are echoing over fern and ice
|
| And back they bring all them voices
|
| Muttering of chagrin and defeat
|
| I was in reach of orb and crown-
|
| Could-be-king to the fire!
|
| I could have ruled in purple gown
|
| Now all that’s left is ire!
|
| Believe!
|
| A dismal truth in nards that no sun has ever seen
|
| No further tales will ever sever
|
| The hour’s growing late for the weak and faint-at-heart
|
| A comfort never earned, deserved- coward!
|
| Frail…
|
| Deceit…
|
| Defeat…
|
| In my woe
|
| A world aglow
|
| Let go of me…
|
| Dreams ignite
|
| And then they die
|
| Let go of me…
|
| Forever and a day, right here…
|
| This will be the end of you
|
| A feather to the four winds
|
| A sparrow to the sun
|
| Whenever I close my eyes
|
| And stare into the sun
|
| Whenever in memories
|
| Through golden fields we run
|
| In every waking sleep
|
| In every time of need
|
| Whenever the soul will weep
|
| Carry on… here in my Wintertide of Faith |