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In Winter's Land, where darkness reigns,

A mystic world of sorrow chants.

between the chill and frozen air,

Creatures lurk with eyes that glare.

Through silver mist and icy gloom,

Mystic beast slowly looms.

Their forms unseen, their voices hushed,

In the shadows, they remain untouched.

Under the veil of starry skies,

Where sorrow feels and sadness lies,

The land of winter's majestic grace,

Becomes a haunting, sacred place.

Among the pines, the spirits wail,

Their gloomy cries like winter's gale.

A choir of ghosts in frozen trance,

In harmony, they weep and dance.

The moon, a lantern in the night,

Casts eerie glows upon the white,

Unveiling secrets, long hidden,

By sorrow's touch, the wounds were revealed.

The wolves, they howl, their spirits torn,

Their cries blend with the windswept thorn.

Yet, in their eyes, a wisdom gleams,

As if they've seen forgotten dreams.

Within the dark, a silent deer,

With eyes that hold a crystal tear.

A guardian of this frigid land