Now, ghosts, go all to that upper world
For great is your wealth in the ground, and great is your fire
And many your hot stones
Hunter, gatherer, searching for cedar
Lost without light, obscured of sight
Through fog and trees, possessing the man on his knees
Imbued with power
Wild man of the woods, beholding suffocated souls
Keeper of the drowned, forced to remain
Eternal dimension
Chief of woodsman, valuing your flesh is a privilege lost
Man will never outstare the stars nor death
Father awaits me
Devour, I must
I am bound by my head
Spirits awake, insanity and disgust
Lunacy, my great escape
Renewed humanity
I follow the creek, winter falls
Unearthly appetite
Mussels brim the canoe
Stumbling through the pines, darkness calls
The brink of starvation
I am a ghost, devoid of life