The vast windswept wastelands,
Cold horizons opens
Many traveller has set their course from here,
Few of them have returned

The utter darkness,
Bleak visions of emptiness,
And the veil to this portal,
Lies in your own belief

When thousand moon has circled,
In the shadow of endless nights,
The wage of eternal life

Among the old tree's,
As the dust covers every flower in bloom,
The mourner hide their eyes,
To reap the seeds and harvest

Withering flowers of the northem autumn,
Shall never thrive again
The time has ceased,
Now my dreams are true