Beyond the north: a second north.
Beyond that north the memories fade,
And tales take hold of dark and ice,
Of endless nights, of swans in flight,
Of dead who walk with mirror step,
Of land where rock will crack and burn,
Of skies that burn, of snows that burn,
Of seas that swell with monster’s bones.
Beyond that north, there’s nothing more,
There are no dead, there’s nothing born:
The formless still, the waveless sea,
A void as deep as space is cold.
It’s in us all, that silent space.
It’s in our blood, it’s in our graves.