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A village trapped in endless frost,

Weeks of hunger, all hope lost.

In midnight woods, a farmer found,

Torn asunder, silent sound.

His eyes have melted from their caves,

His chest cracked open, frozen graves.

He saw a vision none should bear,

A winter’s soul, a burning glare.

The bleeding snow, the winter cries,

Where frozen terror never dies.

A mirror heart, a sacrifice,

The village trembles in cold’s device.

The bleeding snow, the haunted night,

Where living souls fall in spectral fright.

The winter soul hungers still,

No mortal blood will bend its chill.

The occultist whispers, shadows call,

A ritual rises, summoning all.

Blood of old, a heart-reflecting glass,

The deepest fear as offerings pass.

Ghostly forms upon the snow,

Whispering voices, bending woe.

They tempt the living to join the dead,

To lay themselves where spirits tread.

The bleeding snow, the winter cries,

Where frozen terror never dies.

A mirror heart, a sacrifice,

The village trembles in cold’s device.

The bleeding snow, the haunted night,

Where living souls fall in spectral fright.

The winter soul hungers still,

No mortal blood will bend its chill.

The mirror cracks, the heart is bared,

Reflections of terror no one dared.

Each sacrifice, a shadow made,

In snow and blood, their souls will fade.

Each sacrifice, a shadow made,

In snow and blood, their souls will fade.”

Figures linger at the forest’s edge,

Eyes like frost upon the hedge.

The snow now bleeds beneath their tread,

A crimson path where fear has led.

The bleeding snow, the cursed domain,

Where life dissolves in endless pain.

No prayer survives, no dawn shall rise,

Only screams beneath frozen skies.

The snow still bleeds, the winds convulse,

Each heartbeat trapped, each breath repulse.

No light, no mercy, no hope to sow—

Forever falls the bleeding snow.