Rotting into Primal

The dead trees wailed as the axe does fall Their screams echo in mournful Call Figures turn embers in the Blaze Their kingdom now a pile of waste The Forest Will rage And force to behold And in the end a vulture in Turn As the snow falls, the Forest stands tall And the vultures they battle, they merely have grown The Storm rages on In the forest we are Gone And you won't see Us The face Of man forgotten In Those Cones, The worms do crawl Nature's triumph, Man's downfall But as we fade into the mist The trees will stand Forever to last Ancient Glaciers moving like indestructible animals Fires in fascination The tide is rotting into Primal Builders of the world Rise more Their spirits hold power for the meek alone The axe it grinds in the hands of wrath As the wild's sweet claim to Rest The Storm rages on In the forest green And you will see At The face Of man's Eternal