mornische

The howling of wolves, the silence of trees, The snow’s on the land, the ice’s on the sees, The dark minstrel is eager to sing, About the Death and its beautiful ring: “I’ve seen many people, I’ve heard many words, I fought in the battles without the swords, The wives were crying, the husbands went mad, My ring has a power to make you all sad, I come as a spider inside of your hearts, I ruin your brains, and the new journey starts, I’m drinking the blood, and your faces turn pale,” So that was the song of the dark minstrel. “The moon disappears from thousand eyes, The ghosts from the cemete