Obsequiae Lone Isle
Through the mists of the moors
I can still see all those who were before me
Silent and still, awaiting rebirth
By sylvan passage
A hidden trace of a well
Deep beneath the vault: a living tomb
Where waters stir and florets bloom
Bury me beneath them
To endure the years without sun
Our vessels decay upon this landscape
Eroding the centuries to come
Ashes laid on nameless graves
Come forth under my sign
A lone isle stands
In the glow of the boundless sea
Where heavens expanse yields
Effacing its memory
The day that all of your streams turn red over
Carrion ground
Will be the relics of springtide above burial
Shrouds
Under the warmth of the sun
Mounds of heather sway
Where the martyred silently rest
The scars of life remain
