Tot - Candlemass

Dark clad waters, still warm shrouds

Doomsday warning from the men in the clouds

Lily’s weep over light that fled

Words were carved in my arm by the dead

Grim like war, foul like tar

Corroded fragments of a dying star

Sleepy herons abruptly awake

As the black god arises from the cold of the lake

Figure of smoke, emerald head

Magnificent is the king of the dead

Somewhere beyond the sun still shines

But even snow dies sometimes