In The Hands Of Storm — Yearning

When northern storm is rising He gathers the powers might Travels through the highest skies Alone forevermore, but so sublime

Crying here to be free from mortal form, so valueless Heading towards source of all Alone forevermore

In the hands of storm he is purified, Searching for the sound from the ancient lakes Heavens open now, clouds are raining blood This might be the one, our final doom

Found the source of life that is our doom This is all too much, this is the doom