1. |
The Broken Path
12:09
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Two fallen stones mark this path
Hidden from our eyes by blue and white
Few can see the way from
the distance of their lonely glass homes
Hiding away from the path we tread
They craft their towers and their stories
Ignorant in their glass houses
Blinded by the glare of the sun they yearn to see
Can we turn back the clocks,
See beyond the mirrors and images?
The light is blinding, master over our minds
Shackling us to rust and rot
Two fallen stones mark this path, Broken,
like the trees and the mountains above them
Yet still we drink the ashes and eat the charred branches,
We have created with our palaces built only on air.
We have risen above the trees
Among the clawing winds
and the howling of earth
There can be no return
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2. |
From Roots to Ruin
09:34
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With a canopy so dense
All those below are blighted by shadow
Grasping for the light
In spite of your hegemony
From roots you’ve risen
Red dirt upon death’s altar
Weaving silence into the symphony
From roots to ruin, you’ve risen and failed
bitter poison, a seeping blight
a fool's subservience echoes, resounding
ignorance buries our sovereignty
we hath been sculpted a simulacrum of life
they drink from the corrupted font
Baleful ruin sent unto thee
Cleansed in calamity and woe
From roots to ruin, cast into vacuity
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3. |
Adrift
05:04
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4. |
In Great Silence
11:58
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Earthen one,
How do you bear?
Under the weight of man’s constructs,
Towers raised from Earthen flesh.
Invading the sky,
But built upon wind.
Earthen sons,
Why worship the sky?
Feel old soil beneath you,
thriving with life,
ancient monolith
Far vaster than thee.
Do you see how you...
consume all you find?
Feel your cold monuments, the dead stone,
Wrought from the Earthen flesh.
Invading the sky,
Crafting ruin in every realm.
Until you must
escape each host
you fare unto death.
When you have perished
The roots will return,
And tear those constructs asunder.
Let broken towers serve as a warning.
Yearn for the sky no more.
Your realm is the Earth,
And to Earth all things return,
In great silence.
Let them be naught but tombstones,
Left to fade in the great silence.
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5. |
Mons Absconditus
17:08
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How heavy I feel,
Through days of bleak, biting cold.
Carried by the wind,
Through fingers, and rushes of maple
Lonely mountain,
grandest father of stone,
Adorned in water and roots
cold echoes upon an eternal throne.
We were held together by the unyielding belief
that our graves were not tombs, but seeds.
With grey hewn stones, marking our roots
to grow anew among the ancient trees
Yet under the dominion of man
Naught but dust and ash can grow
Lonely mountain,
grandest father of stone,
Adorned in water and roots
cold echoes upon an eternal throne.
I wander alone in the Endless Forest,
Where stones remain unturned in the forgotten wood.
I step carefully through the mist,
Shadows hem my path through the pine
On the mountain rising from cold earth,
Where naught but the wind calls my name
Freed from the burden of belief
That I must preserve my body
No sign of my passing
Only the dust of man
The cold rising mountain,
the burning ice and grasping roots
Scour all of the tombs
We thought would remain
Lonely mountain,
grandest father of stone,
Adorned in ice and roots
cold echoes upon an eternal throne.
Your majesty casts a great shadow
Unceasing, impenetrable,
on the fate of man.
Ubiquitous melancholy,
does mother feel thee?
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