Seed

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

We climbed the mountains as days went bymany weeks we counted, flag hoisted highand we thought of others who stayed at homeCascadian brethren were not alone. Grab my hand, march the pathacross the land, be my epitaph.Dawn—Dawn of refusal, resistance and loreDawn of your god, existent no more Lonely searchers, we seek our foeleft by time, fate already sewnno wish for glory, but death not alonethe flag-swathed are returning home. Grab my hand, march the pathacross the land, be my epitaph.Dawn—Dawn of refusal, resistance and lore.Dawn of your god, existent no more. Take our favors of hazel and pinethis land is our blood, you will never dienot alone—immortal in earth.Raise your banner bloodstained with hopesun and rain sacrifice, death feeding lifeyour gift—immortal freedom. Grab my hand, march the pathacross the land, be my epitaph.Dawn—Dawn of refusal, resistance and lore.Dawn of your god, existent no more.

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 25, 2025

My lucid green wavesmy lamenting seabirdsmy salt on your tonguemy sand in your eyesmy star-branded bodymy withering fog-breathmy wind in your hairyou long for the shore. My yearning is two hundred miles longbut my need is ever-strongwe are the threads weaving the skeletal woodsand broken mountains. Abandon your scrapers of sky, cities are thieves of the soulrebels that burn with blue fire, listen—Cascadia calls. We are manyWe are oneWe are melodiesWe are song We wept like brothers, fought as sistersbroke like ice and died like glacierswe yearned like forests starved by summerwe wept like sisters and fought as brothers. Return to me, my beautiful-onemy waters and my lovermy salt on your tonguemy waves in your hairmy wind and my sandreturn to me soon, so we can be one. My yearning is two hundred miles longbut my need is ever-strongwe are the threads weaving the skeletal woodsand broken mountains. I wish the mountain-crawling mistto be your silver breaththis place is not you, my lovebut I may never come homeyour grit beneath every stoneriver and sky your cerulean skinfor you are my love, my lovebut at battle's end this land will be my home. My yearning is two hundred miles longbut my need is ever-strongwe are the threads weaving the skeletal woodsand broken mountainsthe threadbare fensand ragged meadowsLong live Cascadia.Long live this fight.

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 25, 2025

Estuary of fallen starsMadrona swallows dark water.We wear wreaths of lady ferndrink the changeling moonlight. We burn our meditations on cedar skinincense, the scent of camasof moss like mist, glacier lilies. The sun knows no answerand longs for the earth.The moon knowsher love for the sun. Inhale the stars, exhale existencethe stars—of breath and cloud are bornthe stars—restless elements they become. Rivers tattooed beneath her skin, lotus in the mistrain of his eyes and of his skinfog from his lips. Cyclic snake bites its tailOuroborus, Jörmungandrseed to treeleaf to rotOuroborus, Jörmungandr The Morrígu and her ravens feast on prism-skinned salmonunderworld in her eyes, in the frostbitten gaze of the fallen.

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 25, 2025

The might of man is rubble, tattered landthe true victor—emerald not iron. Follow the owl, hide from machinemechanical scouts, with broken wingseven victorious you will be emptythe last of hope in the owl's eyes. Owl at dawn, talons grippingspirits lifting beyond blood and pain. Follow the owl, hide from machinemechanical scouts, with broken wingseven victorious you will be emptythe last of hope in the owl's eyes. Endless should these forest be, uncarved and unscathedhaze-less skies, only moon, star, cloud in the night. Bronze talons woven in our hairwe smell of wood smoke and rainfollow the owl, gather the hordefollow the owl. Endless should these forest be, uncarved and unscathedhaze-less skies, only moon, star, cloud in the night. Faces painted with blood, human ashbut talons strung in our hairwe rise with the owlwarriors fall, stories rise.

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 25, 2025

Every time they follow the shadows, I will always guide throughstay on your toes while walking through the meadowsthe creatures there will haunt you, too.We belong to the call of the mountain, Hoh Forest calls us back to herto be a witness to celestial fountains, spirits in it bring you and I together. I see your reflection on the ripples of the treesit brings me down to my faint bloody knees.Though mighty gods have an anger for youI still gain strength through the power of the moon. Every time they follow the shadows, I will always guide through.Stay on your toes while walking through the meadowsthe creatures there will haunt you, too. I take a breath to replenish my willto think of you is to see the world still.Just keep on running while they chase after mewe'll run together to continue the journey. Every time they follow the shadows, I will always guide through.Stay on your toes while walking through the meadowsthe creatures there will haunt you, too.We belong to the call of the mountain, Hoh Forest calls us back to herto be a witness to celestial fountains, spirits in it bring you and I together. Save yourself, forget the paths we crossedI'm a wanderer, these memories won't be lost.Hunched on this stone, next to distant red sand dunesto die along is far better than to die here with you. Forget about me and the rest of the signsI'm a wanderer, stuck in multiple lifetimes.It's all right that you never knew my nameI swear to you, I will not die in vain.

The stories speak of trees that thinkof singing mist, nameless flowers in footprints. Tonight, tales are truthswe are silencewe are woodwe are leaf Ten days, one thousand treesour enemy marches from the eastsentries of fire, guards of steelwatching, burning, anise and bone. All ways are shut, we closed themall but onea gauntlet hewn from treeswhere deadly birds awaitwith eyes of green. They come on the solsticegod on their tonguesfrost on their gunslead by one of our ownthe path, her veinschains chattering from her collarblood and rust. Silent in the trees, bullet's gaze upon her facewe watch her leadthen she falls, shot in the head.They call for another green-skinto lead them through this cursed forest. We fall before they chain up their preydeadly windfall from fatal trees.Reclaim our girl's body.Feed her to the fireher ashes to the wind. Homecoming is the dead's only poetryHomecoming is the dead's only poetry Long live Cascadia!Long live this fight!Long live the hearts of the fallenwho blood-fed the earth. Bodies, like so many leavesfallinglike their angels.Morrígu, I dedicate this battle toBogachiel, protect usCernunnos, keep our fires strongEarth, heal us. The night palewith snowground warmredlike a womb

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 25, 2025

Fog stirs at the messenger’s feet, like a ghost crossing the thresholdhe holds the final words, in his handshe holds my awakening. You were bright with wanderlust (must be free)yet I knew you would long for home (long to leave)I pleaded (let me go)please don’t go (far from sea, please…)but you never listened (let me go)not to the ocean-call (let me leave)not to me (strength in hand)so I let you go (as I go, far from the sea) Free like mist and the snarling sealike darkling trees and the feral windI bid you farewell, forever more... You are shadowed, lightless-eyed (I am free)you will never come home (ever free)I plead (deep this pain)live again, my daughter (long to leave, please…)but the dead do not listen (release me)not to fathers (in the end)not to oceans (quiet screams)bid you farewell, forevermore (as I leave, far from my home) Free like mist and the snarling sealike darkling trees and the feral windI bid you farewell, forever more... My lucid green waves,my lamenting seabirds, call for youmy star-branded bodymy withering fog-breathI long for you.My infinity beckons, your blood returns to meby river and rainyou return, we are one.

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 25, 2025

The road returning ends in unmarked gravesmotherless children, lover's lips and tonguethe broken or sealed promised—I will come home. The road returning tastes of blood and honeyash and birth, smells of deathand the white froth of oceanspray in spring. Years it seems since I last tread beneath these pinesand the moon seems different, somehowwithout its bloodmist disguiseI am nightmare's child that walks the real dream. We marked a reverie, drawn upon the mapcrafted your home, of snow, leaf and sea. I raise a new home from the ruins, bury my lover's boneslogs of Douglas fir and cedaraltar of shells and stones. Freedom existslike a pearl in darknessbeneath the tyrant's tonguea pearl in darkness. Take my heart and my bodybuild with your lover's bonestake from me, dig deep within meEarthskin for your home. The road returning tastes of blood and honeyash and birth, smells of deathand the white froth of oceanspray in spring.

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 25, 2025

The earth shook herself awake, fire and stonebit her chains of fetid reasonlike a sapling from decay, she will feed on your fall. Her freedom, you named it green treasonyou bastards with your bruised flag.I’d like to cut out your tonguesspangle fifty barbs across your face. I am estranged, far from the oceanstunted ribcage trees, thorned husks like deathno corpse-reek, it smells of bonea wraithlike land, crumbling tomb. I thirst for the rain, dew on needles and leafLady Bogachiel, oh maiden of mistbut dust fills my eyes, spines in my mouthto speak of home, that is green treason. I hid the ink on my skin, a glacier lily upon each palmTwin Sisters tattooed down my spine, Rainier’s peaks upon my armbut when I spoke of green treason you bound me with scorching desert ropeforced iron down my throatnow I dream of the moss-stains beneath my feet. You can never keep me from my homeLady Bogachiel sings of your doomthe rain has always brought the end of ruinheed, my lady calls me with her fog-song, I must return. Deep in the vale stirs my lady’s primal firegreen crescent moons beneath the black star-shineebon as the Morrígu's gazeI stare into my lady’s sunless facethe trail beyond the dying sun. My mother, the light shed from a raven’s wingfather, the vapor of its eyes.From my stepping feet, rising mist and fallen rainmy bird skulls, burning incense, exhale cloud.The sun through wet veils, my hazel-horned loverhe runs deep in my moss and loam, my sunken river.Molten starlight in the ground, pale beards drape from treestraps of spider web and wind-woven moss ensnare me. Deep in the vale stirs my lady’s primal firegreen crescent moons beneath the black star-shineebon as the Morrígu's gaze. I am your vale, breast dark as the black of crow-eyesI am your vale, fog cold upon your brow.Frozen ferns and night fog are my winter incensedrink it deep, drink it deep, in cold arms you sleep.I drape you in moss-woven blankets to keep you warmmolten starlight thaws the ground, we are home. Deep in the vale stirs my lady’s primal firegreen crescent moons beneath the black star-shineebon as the Morrígu's gazeI stare into my lady’s facewe walk the path of blades, the trail beyond the dying sun.