The span of evil begun at dawn,
From the edge of the gate came the guardian in waiting.
With the blood to bind our eyes beyond the boundary.
The watcher as a crow came to draw the moss ridden tower.
Ruler of winter, thy veiled one is weary and wise.
She who shines the storms of end year and holds the whole heart of stones in the cold.
The water flows beyond the edge, pouring into the crystal sphere of the night.
War weighs on her shoulder,
Circling the center-
Of the kings brigade.