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Sins Of Thy Beloved, The - The Mournful Euphony

As thou await for the embrace of the poudrins

thou hear the roaring of a stormy wind

thou feel a gelid shiver deep within

as thou wonder what will this winter bring



The spectress of winter are rising

under the pale north star

mist benights the horizon

cold and arcane it appears



Hearken thy mournful euphony

when wintry tempest so furious sweep

sounds so majestic, a symphony

so enchanting a deep sonorous grief



Carry me o'mighty winter

to my desolate realm

where i shall narrate my tale of woe

my creed my unseemliness



the northern light above the murky skies

enchaning me it's so divine

as the winter nights slowly enlarges

snow conceals it's winther'd leaves



I'm thy winter fire

embrace thee with desire

always sorrounding thee

and enswathing thee



Yet it shall bloom

the mid'winter storm

that compels

the landscape to deform

embellishing in

the enchanting twilight

as the master of winter

evinces his might



Carry me o'mighty winter

to my desolate realm

where i shall narrate my tale of woe

my creed my unseemliness



The poudrins embrace my cold realm

so arcane but yet so gracious

it emerged in solemn splendour

so alluring and beyond divine
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