Midwinter noon, shadows are long.
The red sun so cold, life so wrong.
In the greyblack forests of old,
freezing to death in the eternal cold.

Midwinter moon high in the sky,
outshining the weak, dying sun.
The nightfall of eternal winter is nigh,
now as the final darkness descends.

It's darkest before the blackness engulfs
and binds our hearts to the servitude
of the sweet cold void of nothingness,
the blissful death of eternal years.