Primordial Freedom - The Wretched End

The leaves are falling

Once again we march

The north is calling

Grounded virtue of man

Mountains bleak

Crisp air fills the sky

Will we find what we seek

Before we all die

Under the harvest moon

I call for primordial freedom

Solice amongst the trees

Like a ghosts of the past

Holding many a tale

Will yours be the last?

Mesmerizing formations

Burning black coal

To reach and bury

The chaos of a longing soul

Instinctive fire

A sense of something real

Cleansing the angstridden flesh

Strengthening the steel

Freedom!

Freedom!

Freedom!

Under the harvest moon

I call for primordial freedom