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The place of my mystic spellcasting

The Graves Beyond my Castle

Desolation of the dead, hungry for battle

But one grave adorned with roses,

My love in her eternal slumber

With every moonrise she was scored across her flesh

Silver claws from the frostdemons

Invisible to me, but real to her

And with every sunset she would bleed and cry, cry for me

And with every sunset she would bleed and cry, cry for me

Her skin was striped with fresh red scars

Oh, no

Wallowing, in, a bed, of blood

Sobbing

Wallowing in a bed of blood, sobbing

Wallowing in a bed of blood, sobbing

Wallowing in a bed of blood, sobbing

Wallowing in a bed of blood, sobbing