Nothing Stands Obscured - The Flight Of Sleipnir

Tread high peaks

Hidden gold

Insult draws sword

Blood drips from cord

Foul, thirst quenched

O' crimson sate

Then roasted heart

Flesh to partake

Lo!

That speech of which I hear

Of larks, Nuthatches, sky dwellers

Their intent made clear to me

Nothing stands obscured

Whispers to wind

A breath

A cut

A wound

Drank of his blood

Ate of his heart

There he sits

With corpse defiled

Lo!

That speech of which I hear

Of larks, Nuthatches, sky dwellers

Their intent made clear to me

Nothing stands obscured