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 winter's 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