As embers dress the sky de Agalloch

The shallow voice of the wind
cries between these ebony wings
the shallow cries of the win
sing a swansong for mankind
Shine on morning skyfire
ablaze this final day
the autumnal end, the dawn of man
the centuries fade below my feet
I soared above them
as they worthlessly poured
thought from a chalice
as wisdom would flow,
twilight would come to pass
drink oh hallowed cup of life
Shine on evening skyfire
paint the sky with the blood of a raven
bereavement, oh garment of ebony
as embers dress the dusk of