A mourning wind
a keening, sorrowing cry
born of ice and darkness
the Devil's frozen sigh.
Sweeping o'er the ice fields
across the Barrens bleak
wings of death come scything
seeking the lost and weak.
Northern lights are dancing
vast ribbons flung in space
glorifying winter
and it's merciless scowling face.
Across the trackless tundra
beneath the Aurora's fire
pressed before the Black wind
of the Wiindigoog's deathless ire.
Breath vapors rise and follow
the brittle air of life
clouding, smoking, flowing
ancient testament of strife.
The caribou herd is travelling
a snorting, thrashing hoard
southward on a journey
down a long and winding road.
