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Gateways

by Dead Hills

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1.
Sing not broken harvest, for the night is long And the echoes of the dawn still carry on Wake into dusk and splendour, witness the prophet song Follow t'ward the binding, burning strong And lying thusly broken, the spirit of old decay Behold as the ancient tethers fray Journey through the darkening murkland, the paling and the grey To midnight shrouded valleys far away Now vastly approaching The ancient wall, from which I derive My immaterial bond to these planes Gratefully wanes, and breaks once again Loomward the weaver walks Unburdened by haste Tideward and weary stalks In somnolence drear A child of ancient grace
2.
Wanderer from far beyond Sing to me in that wordless tongue Traveler in realms unknown I hear the wind from its spectral throne Nightwrought, the towers glow Tall and far in their dusk abode Yet long the winding road Saith the wind from its spectral throne High up the rise, looming as a pale shadow The swirling air reveals fleeting... Dancer, of the distant form Dreamer, from beauty born The vales wide, the globes in their luminescence Await their waking and your passage Come again, the ward and the wizard Those pale fires, whence we came Bind the frayed, the lost and invisible wayward cords In open gloried wreathe, in luster timeless Guide the wanderer, the weary voyager Now aimed true, adorned and veiled Prophesied, receiver to distant journey lies Past the wooded groves, and onward beyond... Caller, 'cross violet skies Seeker, with rending cry The wailing winds beckon to the lingering wisps Drawing near to bridge the wretched rifts Shimmering, the lucent path Passes by in bleary flight Mystic flickerings float alight Pulled by the tide Spheres dissipate in dormant grace Rising, tumultuous, the echoing embrace Of ascendant return River of arcane might, breaker of fate Reveals, 'midst towering heights, the perennial gate Cascade of prophecy... Warder of the coming tide Defender in the shining night Fear not the perils that lay in the raging waters Nor the woes of cryptic wonders The towers tall resound to the distant hollows Saith the wind from its spectral throne
3.
He stands in the weary light of the clearing A pale prescence, adrift and alone Pondering the scattered remnants of the distant time That on old winds are blown Oh come the harvest dry Pass by the shadows in our eyes Welcome the winter, pale white See not confusion, nor decry He waits for the evening sun to depart him A shadow forms, and not his own Nearing the dreary summit of his hilltop climb Looms the shadow of death Oh come the harvest dry Pass by the shadows in our eyes Welcome the winter, pale white See not confusion, nor decry
4.
Woodsmoke 12:00
Between the fey and the fable Where mythic motes in miry meadows dwell Over the hallowed hills unveiled The gleaming trail returns with elder spell To elevate Writhing, windworn, amidst the dimming shadows Duskbearer, in the hazy nightmist Seeping outward from the deep dreamhollows A burdened procession in cursed ambience Enshrouded in auratic glow Sorcerous seers make their way below The lashing winds in tempestuous might Pierce the billowing wall, the enfeebling blight The gloomy path, revealed in the silence Evoking passage and windborne guidance Channelling, the seers return To culminate their conjuring Reaching beyond, unworldly bond Forlorn was the coming morn That tore through the breaking winter For it carried the wounds of time and grievance As echoes of the passing night Resound toward a starry aether Ephemeral in their flight Fading to wisps of woodsmoke And so as the cosmic arch Descends on the silent forest The astral cloak is cast, enduring The dawnkeepers flee afar Soaring to a distant never The blessed mists depart Borne on winds of woodsmoke Between the ever and the after The long ages and bygone tales past Held in the sweeping landscape dormant Awaiting the cry to call apart To resonate
5.
Loom 07:38
Waking into grey Where olden remnants lay Under darkness torn And undisturbed by time In towering twisted climb The threads toward the dawn Lunar tapestry Casts its majesty For all to behold And rising to entwine Over sacred sign The threads in deathless hold The ephemeral wave Recedes in finite ways

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www.facebook.com/dead.hills

Gateways is a dark, dusklit journey through realms only reached in dream, where violet skies loom down upon weary travelers and nightbirds chant their eerie songs. An array of influences coalesce to form this otherworldly tapestry of dark dreamland imagery.

All sounds and words were created and materialised by Weaver between Dec 2014 and Feb 2016

Artwork by Gabriel Gagnรฉ

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released May 3, 2016

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Dead Hills Australia

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