| The Mountains of Wrath (Montis De Ira) Far back, sometime where the beginning had taken place A guide was stirred from beneath a treacherous terrain Potent, solid and deep was the rock, absolute magnitude was the blaze An anger that came from a buried heat that torched the plain We'll not move easily and intense is our grip, quakes and peril claim Sedatus and fuming far below where a world lay asleep and numb Resonus and dissonus evenly guided nowhere while treading away Going out beyond any account of memory and all behind would succumb Arising from depths like a swirl of smoke in just a mesh of gray It's a way you desire to go while alert, but never when taken beyond the sun I've went away into hidden grottos, some I know by name, some I see Although quiet in deathly saturninity, I feel something louder than storms Even unto this time where spans of time had passed, it continues relentlessly We may not clearly see ourselves as whole, but in part where mountain mourns For they ran under and through ways never traced until wrath warns The terrible force as now we see the heaviness of earthen mixture fray A piercing bolt of binary beams as surface sinks where boiling deeps allow Pulses roll in square distance, but unmeasured, unknown metric forms giant maze Underneath a thousand ranges could fill its base and we know not how Again the guide stirs and awakes the essence of wrath in its gaze Clamor, thunder, while winds whisper and sway without a break in their course All the anger from a chaotic blast of unleashed power was then subdued But its guide the essence that beats within all things made of its source Has cleared paths and unearthed maximum thermogenesis, intensified their mood Mountains are the key to upheaval of buried earth, exposed and cooled I may have used magic but I will learn the secrets of natural scenery When I complete my long hours I will no longer use simple minutes, but the hard When my different charm falls into explosive mist, islands turn to greenery And in that time ice poles may border the edges and die as a frozen guard No path created that even the waters were lost in a dead haze, arching far A monument to which night hides inside, an obelisk of element and mass Building up so quickly that my eyes blink in few moments where I stand It can often be in open gaps of time where utter destruction will pass By what ends I look from a far realm with eyes that see no land Seeming the mountains are grown from darkness itself, rage and fear alas If I set out with this guide to trek these ancient ways long standing There I would go on for ages past the days counted and numbered here If I go on forever, perhaps I could slow the storms with footfall commanding There I would go on for ages past the eons of the universe yet unclear So I will only watch from an indifferent view, while absorbing the sphere Long enduring silent grasp, we grip the edge and still holding fast A pinnacle, the contrast of mirrored illusion of waters vast Until the clouds return over a thirsty desert that also has no path I wonder where I had seen the guide from far back and sometime past Raging just below the surface, there towers over the world, the mountains of wrath Igor 1999 |