Blood on the Birch, cold was the night
wind and snow, to and fro…
Gaut of the North, rides on the wind
traveling high, and down again.
Beyond the smoke, beyond the flames
disappear, within the dusk…
beyond our shapes, beyond our names
begin anew, from ash of luck.
Oak and Cherry, Apple and Spruce
white shades rising, under midnight blue…
thorns adorn all, that seek the flesh
faint lights flicker, far in the void.
Cry of the fox, sounds of the dark
break the silence, below the trees…
rays of the Moon, hooks of the soul
journey towards, Your majesty.
Sun Archer : The Pursuit of the Ancient Truth. 
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