1. |
Into Arms of Oak
12:16
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i stand before you humble oh majesty of oak, but a broken shell lit by the torch-light of my forest-heart
too long have i wandered in search of this haven
too long have i sailed the lives of scorn
now i grace these wooden pillars
unworthy i stand, yet i make my plea
beneath the crimson of the burning sky
here i shall make my offering
upon thine elder roots
through scarlet streams i return to your arms
to rest again, one with her
shroud me beneath snowfall, mend these gaping wounds
breathe unto me the strength to rise anew
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2. |
Risen of the Moor
14:06
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the ages scorn those of ebon slumber beneath scattered mounds across the moors
shattered legacies of the fallen - voices silent, yet not unheard
hanging still in the evening mist their whispers linger
resounding echoes of the past poised to awaken the spirits of the true
with the chilling gaze through panes of black grasping for any sense of being
a rapture of maddening clarity - the ancestral seed begins to bloom
soil churns - awakening - rising through the decay
eyes open to behold the silhouettes upon the moor
clutch firm the spear passed unto us, with their wisdom we march to war
the noose is tied and waiting for long due sacrifice
let it be known despite the turmoil that never shall we be one...
robbed of essence are those to hang from our father's oaken arms
in assurance that all once died for is never left to the worms...
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3. |
Sovereign Nocturnal
14:53
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hope resigned but a whisper - the flicker of a dying flame struggling against the wind
anon the embers surrender to the lengthening of shadows
upon a pallid steed she rides, sovereign nocturnal
crept the frost to claim the earth, relentless her reign of lunar radiance
her embrace of gray shall tear asunder
she dances upon the ashes - a spectre amidst the trees
wreathed in stars - ethereal beauty
the harvester of the life flame
my life entrusted to these embers fallen cold is forfeit in your shadow, yours to take away...
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VELNIAS Boulder, Colorado
Velnias exists as a an entity in opposition to this misguided and failing modern world. The music is a reflection of man's
falling and the grandeur of that which he has forsaken.
The whispers of the woods, the rumble of the cold mountains, the roaring of the frigid sea; despair, for you stand as but nothing in their midst.
... more
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