Wiegedood - Svanesang

Crippled wings and dragging feet.
Moving towards the place I dare not seek.
As the darkness that springs from me, like night over day,
falls over the land I once wish(ed) to reign.
Blood bounds the 12 circles while I am left behind.
Bowed down to receive. Kept down and renounced.
When knees and soil equal in filth.
Time has come for blood to be spilt.
Veins run dry.
Lungs turn black.
I will pray for us, one last time.
On harps of gold with strings of air.
I will play for you, only once,
The song that Life itself could not bear.