Far beyond north, at the nexus of horrid winds There was a light, bright and shimmering On its breast, sealed by jewels of unholy ice Darkness was blacker, and deeper the pain Without tears and blood: a cold statue crystallized By aeons of hate and parsecs of winter Far sunken from the sick breath of sun Still as the silence under freezing web of stars The grand white gods were sleeping And their dreams were the crown of mountains Unraped and pure as a translucent skin But some words were said In southern plague that comes to lie and to destroy The woe-begone speech of a swarming crucible Pain took forms and colours And the northern light cried his first tears Which fall on earth to melt with soil And blood of the pride and pale men A black fog enshroud their dying breath Death was coming on the aisles of times The night armies, merged in one arm The one of Argael, a wisdom called hate! They have brought us angels, we create daemons What are they looking for between walls of flesh And vanishing horizons? Incarcerate the dead Or be murdered by their icon engraved on thy brow Like a second breath from a blood universe An hurling stone, and the sound of light Were his hammer and his deathdealer sword To create the white and pure cell unawaited Argael took lives and lives To give gods what they should have lost