The Great Cold Steppe

Black Horizon Is the Gates of a Blizzard

Shrouded in Pale Shining, So Sleeps Infinite Ancient Steppe

The Stars Are Cold and Indifferent, Sow Their Gleaming Ashes

The Great Shepherd Rides His Storms

Blinding and Bottomless Abyss Is Howling

A Spiteful Wind Buries All the Lonely Whispers