A beast is drawing night,
As daylight dies,
Once again,
Passing sullen shadows,
Of a winter,
Landscape,
Towards,
This creature,
Of frailty,
Who walks here,
Her feet,
Shuffling,
Through dead leaves,
A beast is drawing night,
As daylight dies once again,
Passing sullen shadows,
Of a winter landscape,
Towards this creature of frailty,
Who walks here,
Her feet shuffling,
Through dead leaves,
Moving inside a forest forlorn,
Destined to never find solace,
Into despair and night it was born,
And frost glitters beneath its surface.
Her hands touch the bark,
Of ancient,
Trees,
And helms of her robe,
Become covered,
In snow,
The presence of the beast,
Goes unnoticed,
By her,
Until she looks,
Into eyes that,
Can reflect,
No life,
Her hands touch the bark,
Of ancient trees,
And helms of her robe,
Become covered in snow,
The presence of the beast,
Goes unnoticed by her,
Until she looks,
Into eyes that can reflect no life,
Observing it's pray for the thousandth of time,
Sealing her fate as countless times before,
Suprides to find pain in its tained heart as frost glitters beneath it's surface.
Is this world,
Not woundrous indeed,
Is this world,
Not woundrous indeed,
Behold the pale moon,
And starlights above,
Behold the pale moon,
And starlights above,
Are there not so many things,
For us to do and to feel,
Are there not so many things,
For us to do and to feel,
Could there be less,
For us,
But love,
Could there be less,
For us,
But love.
Are there not so many things,
For us to do and to feel,
Could there be less,
For us,
But love,
There is no love inside me to share,
As frost glitters beneath my surface.
Her hands touch the hide,
Of a dusktime beast,
And the helms of her robe,
Are covered,
By snow,
They stand,
So still,
In the cystalline forest,
Amidst the sullen shadows,
Of a winter,
Landscape,
Her hands touch the hide,
Of a dusktime beast,
And the helms,
Of her robe,
Are covered by snow,
They stand so still,
In the cystalline forest,
Amidst the sullen shadows,
Of a winter landscape,
Finding its way through the forest forlorn,
It's search for solace is close at hand,
Tainted heart weeping red hot blood as frost glitters beneath its surface.