I have travelled, travelled through the coldest of winters. Lashes of wind have hurt my body screaming hymns of the frost
taking away pieces of my soul, as they stole pieces of other suffering beings... I have slept, slept upon the hardest of
dusted nails have hurt my body, disturbing my dreams with their nightmares... And taking away pieces of my soul... Is the road
long?... I have cried, cried around the saddest of shores, where the thoughts follow the tide, where the thoughts follow the
Jaws made of water have hurt my body, leaving my flesh naked and weak and my soul's gone with the breeze... "Show me the path,
coldest of winds, cause I feel I'm in darkness, I'm afraid and I'm tortured by the pain of my open wounds..." Now I'm going to
die in the most 'lone of all thrones, where I could lay my tired body and sing lullabies for my death, hoping the wind gave
soul to the angels (and the souls of other suffering beings...).