here they lay within our arms caressing this darkest purge honing the darkness pure, bleeding the nether free under an
earthen stone, she of cloak and crown, she of blackened steelblessed be unto her her soul, the naked blade; the color of
darkest lochs her temperance, the hilt forged from silver winters time is but a breath age thus comes and goes a pitiful
mortal coil; you and yours, mortal man embrace her immortality the nether three, nocturne sisters they are the sentient
circle, the meeting point to the end