• In the darkness,
    Where the white fades slowly darker than the shadows,
    Thus is where the being seeks cold play and Mishap.
    The shadows is no place to hide,
    for that He lurks them with the eyes of a thousand Gods.
    His heart is as cold as ice and empty as the Blackest hole.
    His hands stained with the red from the bloodshed of many who's stories were untold.
    His sword that swings ever so gracfully through the ripping flesh and bone of his victims.
    The silence in the night shall be kept undisturbed, Only the One will know of his presents
    For which he controls their fate.

    In Winter, The flakes of snow represents my sins,
    To where your life begins, And to where I make It end.
    And For all that is lost, make your life seem untrue.
    in my hands is my sword, to finish you.
    You grow tired and become numb,
    And you have become my fun.
    Now I'm off to search for someone like you,
    To make their stories untold, and Life Untrue.