We whisper and creep through walls
of frozen temples and forgotten halls,
Blue and grey and snowy-white,
and red, and mad, and sad
we come to your ears and sight,
ne’er to rest, ne’er to dwell,
ne’er in silence, cursed to tell
of old stories, lives lost in reddened field,
icy, bloody, misty songs we sing,
the children of the wind.
Just running…