Moderate Spectre

Ghosts are roaming in the dead of night

Hear the shimmering unknown

All the creatures fading out of time

There's no trace left in the snow

On the other side, a thin red line

You can pass at winters end

The horizon holds a ship within

Those who left without commands

To hold inside

The future I

The signs aligning,

The signs aligning

To hold inside

The future I

Tomorrow some will leave me

See others step in line

Tomorrow some will be here

The Absolute will arise