the skies are a graveyard for the stars

The skies are a graveyard for the stars Underneath the starshores, moldavites fall

I wield this targe made of dragon bones and culanda stones (With one arm, t'other halse your nape against my breast

Enclasp me in your arms, in my ribs your crest

They raze the earth with celestial fires Engrave the grounds with dregs of Kyne

Behold this black porcine eat the stars and gurk out it's ashes And the ashes forming into a gegenschein