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Horizon of trees to hide my burial

Death lurking through the leaves

And its whisper you can hear from afar

The blind can see, deaf can hear

But only the wise will enter, and will not exit

Isolation and suicide

Misanthropic vision

Through the dark black clouds of winter

The rain is falling but not hitting the ground

Fog and soft drops of dew

Step inside to the kingdom of depressive illusions

To be forgotten

No light is going through

Creatures of night is ruling and haunting

No human form to be on that peace of quiet palace

Only the beast itself

Pile of a dead mortals bones

Now burning with fire sat by a thunder

Their skin on the wolf's fang

Their blood on the crow's beak

Moon shines where the reapers sleeps

His last mission is to consume Earth and every last living being on it