Xanthochroid - Wormwood

All the trivial pleasures of Erthe Are but bile and bitter venom. When all has darkened, Hatred’s light shall guide me The torrid winds of my home No longer warm my flesh I turn my gaze to the sea, To my forgotten enemy The weight of prophecy No longer burdens me I save my strength To be reborn Behind me is that world of ash The cold air shortens my breath Winter’s Spirits grow stronger A