All things measured, things done and things to come; all fires, all ashes; things found and things lost inside your mind. Feeble tales of death and conquering, of words inward, of time unrelenting, time flowing and time halted. I've seen them, felt 'em, upon weary bones of old guardians, the must humble of all beholders. I am, as i was, and i felt chaos fell upon chaos, blood ran as rivers come, things of must hideous nature breathing alive in flesh and sin.
I have a tale to tell, of winter's breath and the end of the world. Of silhouettes agains the wall, of dancers in the mist, all come, all gone now. All i ask of you, it's to peer into my chants, to behave, oh little lamb, be docile in my reach for i too can be your doom.
