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"There are coarses of souls that sometimes rupture to our side of reality. When we travel the planes of dream we dare these roads and the spirits that he dormant..." |
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Evocation |
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What is this wind we breath |
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Born of the nether |
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Eearthwomb that bleeds |
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First snowfall covers the tress |
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Over manor of |
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Haven something stares and breaths |
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Rose has crossed the coarse of souls |
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Where oblivious havens he unfold, untold tales paint the rooms of old |
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Rose glances the jars just to wake the dusts of cold |
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Samhains moon cuades so distant |
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Wheel of year has turned again |
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Mirrors prepare to rescave the dormant greet the sun the morning comes |
