By the light of the fire that reaches to up to the doors of heaven, my soul cries out in mourning; a longing for the days of our fathers burns hot within my heart. Salvation for my people has faded, the ways of the past are dead, and we left to wonder these dead lands; godless, hopeless, and without vision for our children. To the gods who once blessed those of old, I offer myself as sacrifice; begging for guidance in our weakest hour, allowing my blood to cry out from the ground, to cry out as it leaves my flesh. From my lips, prayers of suffering ascend.