I made my way, under a frosted moon,
Into the vast of the iced woods.
Shiny, silver eyes, from the silent sky,
Saw, as my blackened weeped.
This would be my only comfort, the stillness,
Of a dead and frozen forest.
Only I breathe here, only I can breathe the cold.
And as the ice lays its touch on me,
I am resurrected.
As the winter accepts me,
I am embraced by a gentle snowfall.
Now the frost whispers my name,
And crystalizes the black tears in my face.
I am marked, with the face of a crow...
My throat is scarred from shrieks of pain.
Of blackest cold I am.
I hear no poetry, I see no emotion.
I see evil, I hear the cling of swords.
And then came the northern lights, to embrace my distorted mind.
In this eternal darkness I'll forever wander, forever dwell.
Throughout the ages, I am banned to be the outcast.
The shadows are of my only kin.