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And mother nature will never die

All that rests here are merely bones

Look around you, death is in bloom

Your falling rain drips as blood.

Mother nature struck down in this world.

Never return to this wicked realm.

I chase images through hellish worlds

Breathing flames, distraught for wisdom

Burn the crosses, we shall arise

Your ravens eye remains with me.

Pagan, old runes etched into these stones.

Father Wotan, inherit your power.

Here I stand and wait for your sign

When your wind whispers at the trees

Fly your ravens to the mountains

Where the last of the old ones live.

Mother nature struck down in this world.

Never return to this wicked realm.

No tombstone marks this place

The common deities of the haunted forest

Cover us over with Wotan's grace

And follow the path that manifests.

Pagan, old runes etched into these stones.

Father Wotan, inherit your power.

Here lies the body of this world

The soul finally arrives to hell

This maiden burns an image of the past

Darkness surrounds the grimness.

A decaying age of blood and iron

The several fates that which it befell

As the years pass, will you be reborn?

We only know that here you lie.

As we fall and become one with the Earth

Our arms and legs turn into branches

And the lifeless entities of our youth

Will forever spew out endless chaos.

Who knows where the graveyard lies

Where running wolves and ravens fly?

Who has seen the obscurities

Of our pagan ancestors when they died?