Dead vast forests Cold ground where death threads The blood of those who fell Buried in a tomb of ice Beneath the forest of the dead The trees stand black and silent Immobile in the wind Reaching out in blasphemy Like hands cursing the gods Beneath the forest of the dead The roots still are growing, like serpents in the ground. Twisting, turning, slowly without sound The roots now are spreading, thriving on the dead Hungry, feeding on the lost misled So our limbs lie spread In the shadows of frozen wood But what is eternally dead Gives birth to blackened blood Beneath the forest of the dead