Marrow of the Spirit

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

The jagged lines in these wooden hands speak of a silent aeon below the depths of an austere ebon tide for centuries kingdoms have risen upon the ancient hands of a god once severed for the world's birth a sacrifice to the storms of life now darkness is thine sanctum Temples of magma stream across the grey The arc that transcends my iconic pride For I am not an ageless god, no, I am imprisoned by time These ancient palms shall once again be mine Hands... hands that lift the oceans to vertical depths above the stars For when I die, the universe will die with me and all will be lost forever gone Where am I? How long shall I suffer here? Forlorn in the cold Neolithic embrace Forsaken deep in the sullen tide How long shall I suffer here? Perched on the cliffside gazing out into the brine My archaic beard pours downward and joins the feral sea I am the heritage; the quintessence of myth and legend The archetype of Pagan might and divinity Hands...hands that lift the oceans to vertical depths beyond the stars I gather a celestial blanket around these tired bones and finally slumber in the clouds of ice These are my hands... ...so it is done

Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 22, 2025

Blue textures cascade downward to the base of the monolith Like brush strokes on a canvas of souls Two arms reach out a cloak of silent nihil Revenants untouched by the scythe They are lost in the dark woods of time Aloft in the landscape that you hail I am the fog that seeps over here in the early hours Standing proud in the hollow of the land A vestige of deeper purity etched in spirit against the sky The menhir had runes carved in limbs of oaken sovereignty and could see the ages growing from within the palms I can feel the era slipping into oblivion, no longer grasping the textures I am slowly becoming stone As wolves celebrate the dusk, an old voice of wisdom haunts the vale Shapes flicker in the fire light through the windows The woodlands burn with grace Their silence drowns the age As wandering ghosts pass through the flames A new age of rebirth lights the dawn But who are they who pass by the window? The shapes; like black solar wheels scorched in the snow by gods of the stone... This elder stone shall never fall! Cast the aeons into the void So that no other can seek them No age, no hands shall taint them Pour the sorrows into the sun They are lost forever in dark woods of time Carve the symbols into the stone So that another can find them No age, no hands shall change them Pour the ages into the sun They are lost forever in the dark woods of time

Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 22, 2025

Written in the waters... (voice of the dead) "Our shadows seep into the dusk Like cranes that melt into the pool; A black lake in which they descend Pale ghosts caress the niðstång in the dark its face scarred by the ages, its curse sent with heathen breath to poison the waters of the black lake We are... we are... the faces below the ripples A deep sorrow traveled through the woods And found a home in our humble grave" (voice of the niðstång) "I’ve sent this peril... To the world; this peril shall spread all sorrows And you are but gods watching from below at the base of the totem in the black temple of the Earth I am...I am... the silence inside the tomb You created the stars and gave birth to all the heavens; the darkness of space and time So go... go to the nightside end below" Where have all the noble cranes gone? Where have all the stags disappeared to? Piled below in the tomb of this burdened pool A curse to those who corrupt these sacred woods A curse to those who taste this solemn water No unhallowed breath shall seal a fate before me Join the drowned in the silence of the black lake's womb Accursed... written in the waters...

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 22, 2025

There are ghosts in every hallway In every room, behind every door Peering through every window into the past Holding onto us in the bitterness of the mire Leaving a trace of themselves in the spaces in which they hide ...but there are no ghosts here... There are gods in the wake of every flame The fire that betroths the coldness of the void In every wind, every tempest, and every snowfall In every silence Inside every root that reaches deep into the soul of the Earth ...but there are no gods here... Shadows paint the dusk Ghosts rise from the flames To set alight in the fields In robes of smoke and spirit aligned

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 22, 2025

They escaped the weight of darkness To forge a path into the marrow of the spirit They chose to drown in a deeper vacancy An emptiness that quells the null A pool for the forgotten They escaped the weight of darkness To drown in another...

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 22, 2025