Regen - Ihsahn

More like a gesture

Acknowledging the coldness

Of its touch

I pull myself closer

Around the neck

As to contain myself

From disappearing

In the flux

And the heavens roll violently

Over golden waves

And rust-red hands

Dripping wet

In all their dying splendor

So, we meet again

While dirt turns

Into rivers of mud

Beneath our roots

We stumble and laugh

As we read the inscription

On the naked rock:

Sum quad eris