Agalloch

...It was not long ago when I had fallen from this mortal world,
lost in dream flight to pierce the horizon as a bird...
Is this life the pillor I must bear?
To grow in this wretched world?
...With hate each day I burn...
The birds above, they ride the winds
And from each piercing talon dangles a soul
The stone awaits my fall
Upon a grave I dug myself
The birds sing their requiems
Please lend me your wisdom to fly above the heavens,
Across seas of gold, to my land of frostbitten, ageless night