Cult Of Luna Owlwood
Fear roams throughout this land
Where no man dare tread
Dark shapes protect the one, not bound by laws of flesh
When lights are gone, woodland comes alive
Fire is born into their eyes
Days of isolation
Regret dominates
Unwilling to face what awaits outside
When lights are gone, woodland comes alive
Fire is born into their eyes
Ghost of this age
What the creek take
From a wretched state rose the willing
