Conscious Burning (Khors)

Through thousands of invisible lakes
 The power of cold possesses the mind
 Only brave one knows and hears
 Never feeling the time. 

 Breaking the edge, he is driven be power, 
 Burning his skin, his heart and his soul. 
 Pain, enforcing his efforts, 
 Memory of crystal pieces
 And long dreamsome night. 

 Brains working without tiredness, 
 Looking for the edged wiped off. 
 The wind blows off the pain of the trees, 
 The howl of a beast and the beat of a heart. 

 The power of cold covers the ground
 Helplessly wood bows the branches
 Falling deeply asleep
 And helplessly flame is fading away.