At The Gates

I stand before thee, Father of all that seeksA spirit forged from the depths of chaosPrimordial echoes of a dying raceScream like soulless wraiths of what once wasThe gates stand closed to the lesser onesForgotten in time, shunned by the light, and the darkTheir blood is weak, impure and fadedNone shall pass, the twisted iron, and the one eyeThe price of being, is to become and beholdThe halls of the gods, born of blood and stoneShare none of their power, with honourless menI have borne the curse, and loved her mistressThe dark star revealed its secretAnd its unseen light shined through meAncient and cruel, for at the gates I standTo walk forward to the beginning