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Conscious Burning (Khors)

Through thousands of invisible lakes The power of cold possesses the mind Only brave one knows and hears Never feeling the time. Breaking the edge, he is driven be power, Burning his skin, his heart and his soul. Pain, enforcing his efforts, Memory of crystal pieces And long dreamsome night. Brains working without tiredness, Looking for the edged wiped off. The wind blows off the pain of the trees, The howl of a beast and the beat of a heart. The power of cold covers the ground Helplessly wood bows the branches Falling deeply asleep And helplessly flame is fading away.