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Oakenheart

from Mossweaver by Old Growth

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lyrics

My journey ends. This is the settling of the wanderer.
I lay down my weary limbs on a wet bed of moss.
I taste the dew, drink some resin, climb the clouds
and collect some stars.
I cloak my body in leaves of fern and make my mouth the nest of the night snake.

I replace my lonesome heart with acorns.
The seedling will sprout within my chest.
I place two cones of pitch pines in my orbits.
I will envisage a new world.
I witness my last breath vanish into the cold air of the first autumn night.


A flock of birds ascends into the clouded firmament. A white stag heads for the forgotten glade. The black wolves prepare for the sacred hunt. A druid is born: Mossweaver. Oakenheart.

credits

from Mossweaver, released December 4, 2020

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Old Growth

Woodland Black Metal

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