From Which Of This Oak by Agalloch

As Embers Dress The Sky

by Agalloch· from From Which Of This Oak

The shallow voice of the wind cries between these ebony wings The shallow cries of the win sing a swansong for mankind Shine on morning skyfire ablaze this final day The autumnal end, the dawn of man The centuries fade below my feet I soared above them as they worthlessly poured thought from a chalice as wisdom would flow, twilight would come to pass drink oh hallowed cup of life Shine on evening skyfire paint the sky with the blood of a raven bereavement, oh garment of ebony as embers dress the dusk of man...