Spirits of shadow in an eternal dance, beings of the winter in the silver storms they prance.
The stir of echoes a place void of reason or rhyme shall deliver to us a power most sublime.
In the shadows our king stalks no more, for behind the wall he has found the door.
He will darken the skies and split this word wide until she succumbs to the darkness inside, Into darkness we will go one by one be a part of his show. No more places left to hide for now he comes for his rainbow,his bride.
In this cold,my winter, I laugh as you cry for even the angels deserve to die.