---

As the black ash falls, in the dead of night,

Eyes of anti-cosmic poison meanders profound,

To rune staves I cast in my cold blood,

Incense smokes through the black deep,

Lashed by the storms of the nightside knowledge,

Where ever I might fly away, those ones go with me

As the Void is flooding through the windows,

I fossilise in the frozen state of meditation,

Concentrated on the primary rune of trance,

Under the cold-hearted radiation of Isaz,

Drowned in eleven waters of Élivágar

I strive for the creeping Gullveig's gifts

Icy stillness slowly sinks fylgja into oblivion,

Numbs all limbs into ceaseless sleep,

Beneath gleaming cobwebs of hoarfrost,

Deep in the journey for hidden wisdom,

Gullveig hears my footsteps as I pass,

And paint footprints like a bloodstained trace

As the Void gazes straight into me,

I fall into the harsh cold of ascension,

Nifl-essence extinguishes the fires,

Within the feverish mind and though,

Rune of the Isaz induce a deathlike trance,

Bringing me closer to the secrets of Emptiness