At the Gates

I stand before thee, Father of all that seeks

A spirit forged from the depths of chaos

Primordial echoes of a dying race

Scream like soulless wraiths of what once was

The gates stand closed to the lesser ones

Forgotten in time, shunned by the light, and the dark

Their blood is weak, impure and faded

None shall pass, the twisted iron, and the one eye

The price of being, is to become and behold

The halls of the gods, born of blood and stone

Share none of their power, with honourless men

I have borne the curse, and loved her mistress

The dark star revealed its secret

And its unseen light shined through me

Ancient and cruel, for at the gates I stand

To walk forward to the beginning