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
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