Under the Black Moon - Iskald

Upon the next morning

I walked into an empty old house

Found this scroll on the floor

Among with all her rotten gore

Her name was yet unknown

But she was called the Mistress of Curse

She struck a needle in my heart

Even though she was torn apart

Diary of a Dying Queen

Entitled to the vicious script

I sat and read it all that night

About her everlasting fight

Fifth storm of Blizzard Wings

These last cryptic words was written in blood

I couldn’t help myself to wonder

What she had left beyond her

Waking up to painful screams

That day began the fearful dreams

Her love has gone into my head

I’m falling for a rotting dead

The reverend said I was infected

But I was awake and smelling the air

Reading from the scroll of love and guarding my angel flying above

I searched around in town

For clues about the Blizzard Wings

All their mouths was wide, but shut then I stumbled over a hut

Carved wood on the wall

«Oh death where is thy sting»

A particular abysmal smell of gore met me as I walked through the door

Early morning chaos weeped against me once inside

What I found when I was there was to become my greatest fear

Inside the Mistress' hut

I found what I’d been looking for

A torn out paper from the scroll announcing for whom the bell tolled