Agalloch
ghosts of the midwinter fires
There are ghosts in every hallway*
In every room, behind every door
Peering through every window into the past
Holding onto us in the bitterness of the mire
Leaving a trace of themselves in the spaces in which they hide
...but there are no ghosts here...
There are gods in the wake of every flame
The fire that betroths the coldness of the void
In every wind, every tempest, and every snowfall
In every silence
Inside every root that reaches deep into the soul of the Earth
...but there are no gods here...
Shadows paint the dusk
Ghosts rise from the flames
To set alight in the fields
In robes of smoke and spirit aligned
- :
- Game Tight
- The Mantle
- The Serpent and the Sphere
- The Serpent & the Sphere
- Miscellaneous
- From Which of This Oak
- Tomorrow Will Never Come
- Of Stone, Wind, And Pillor
- Marrow Of The Spirit
- Of Stone, Wind, & Pillor
- Ashes Against the Grain
- Faustian Echoes
- Whitedivisiongrey
- Where Shade Once Was
- Oak Folk
- Pale Folklore
- Pale Folklore (Remastered)
- 2004-02-15: Middle East Downstairs, Cambridge, MA, USA
- The Demonstration Archive 1996–1998
- Legacy 2002/06