Dead vast forests   Cold ground where death threads   The blood of those who fell   Buried in a tomb of ice   Beneath the forest of the dead      The trees stand black and silent   Immobile in the wind   Reaching out in blasphemy   Like hands cursing the gods      Beneath the forest of the dead      The roots still are growing, like serpents in the ground.   Twisting, turning, slowly without sound      The roots now are spreading, thriving on the dead   Hungry, feeding on the lost misled      So our limbs lie spread   In the shadows of frozen wood   But what is eternally dead   Gives birth to blackened blood      Beneath the forest of the dead