The path still calls me
The dark forest and the heart tree
I hear it beating beneath the bark
But the will to walk is waning
I know the queen is waiting
Sitting on her oaken throne patiently
My own face her countenance
But I no longer want to see her
Far off I can hear the ravens
Singing to me to come back to them
I can smell the flowers
By their smell is no longer sweet
So I will let the snow cover the path
I will let the ravens sing to themselves
One day the heart tree will beat its last
And I won’t be there to hear it
My dark Queen of roots and earth
This is not a triumphant return
To a world I once called home
This is an end, this is the end
