Emancipation - Ihsahn

The open air

Atop this mountain

Welcomes my hungered voice

Yet — in the echoes

Of my indulgence

I hear a calling from below

Silent cries

To my solitude profound

In too deep

There is no return

For the soul unbound

In too deep

I draw circles

Sacred boundaries

Around my desolate temple

Blood is spilt

And thorns grow

On the path to liberty

Eternally

In pain and rapture

I was summoned

And I was forced

Yet — I willed it so