Conjurer - The Mire no Lyrkit

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The Mire

The Mire

(álbum: Mire - 2018)

Crossing over, the trudge begins
Through barren marsh and ceaseless winds

Mourn thy departed soul
Torn from your mortal coil

On this forsaken moor
May you find, among the thorns
That rugged ground you tread
Holds passage for the dead

About the fire, upon the fleet
Here is where those comforts leave me
Hold not dear all your sorrows
For they will only fan the flames

This night, this body will endure the torment
My God and Creator deems it worthy to receive

Heathen, avert your fickle eyes
Plead for an absent saviour's hand
Whether you'd a life of splendour or squalor
This mire will surely see it end

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