[Verse]
A kirk forgotten, ringed with mist,
bleak walls devoured in seething grey.
Through nave and hollow choir it slid:
the brood of baleful night.
—
Stone altars—dried and darkened streaks
bear the script of blood.
—
Snared in light, hardened into hate:
the nether gods’ exile.
Vast powers, for unnumbered years,
kept him immured.
—
His strength still fed on thought;
bright phantoms crossed the air
and lured what leaned toward the gulf.
[Bridge]
Whatever waited in the crypt below
had learned to answer when you spoke its name.
The silence broke in two.
One whisper entered, and it followed you.
—
[Outro]
An ember smouldered through the vaulted dark,
past demons bodiless as smoke—
present, yet never wholly to be grasped.
—
[Bridge reprise]
Whatever waited in the crypt below
had learned to answer when you spoke its name.
The silence broke in two.
One whisper entered, and it followed you.