Agalloch Dead Winter Days

There lies a beauty behind forbidden wooden doors
A beauty so rare and pure, it would make human eyes bleed and burn...
...She killed herself in the fall...
I am the unmaker, I bring death to the beautiful dawn
With pillor, cold, and a legion of dying angels...
...I killed myself in the spring...
A grim bough had hung me high
I sank the fires of the Sol
Here, nightfall reigns