Death, the frigid rogue,
seeks everything of life,
and knows all the ways,
in which it to take.
When the bright day ends,
in the freezing darkness of night,
it comes.
But when the cold seeps to your soul,
lulling you deeper into rest,
by the will of the Divine,
awake ignited,
and rise again!
When the journey seems too overwhelming,
in the desperation for pause and leisure,
it comes.
But when your muscles,
raw from frost,
contract,
and you fall,
feet are pierced with sharp icy pains,
by the will of the Divine,
have strength,
and rise again!
When all is lost,
in those very secret seconds of doubt,
it comes.
But when the numbness chews away at your faith,
and despair comes to feed you,
by the will of the Divine,
know no limits,
and rise again!
Death, the bitter bastard,
seeks everything of life,
and knows all the ways,
in which it to take,
but never let it loot life,
without opposition!
Of life,
you rise with the Sun,
and by its glory,
there is no matter,
not even Death,
to withhold you!
Of life,
you shine with the North Star,
and by its light,
there is no way,
to disorientate you!
Of life,
you glow of the Divine,
and by its will,
there is no place for you below!
