The Isolationist

Hidden from the teeth of man
Life is but a struggle
Against the grain and snow
Towards darkness and crows

Ancient pillars crumble
Ruins of herjárdalr
The taiga our fortress
These mountains will be our doom

Yet here they live
Within cold frozen misery
Words they cry of longing
To a home that they have never seen
Frozen wheat and melted ice
The hunger and strife are terminal
Her plea was in vain
This is where she’ll die
This is where she’ll die alone

The horns are sounding
Time has come to reap
Flea-infested grave
The slow rot has begun

Dearest forlorn sueonia
Follow me through gjǫll
My beloved friend
I will never leave these icebound grounds
I will never leave