It was a night beneath a mystic moon,
a lone horseman rode through the of the land of tombs,
Moon light, star light with the mist did weave,
A ghostly veil that stood before rider and steed.
Should he enter, should he proceed,
Into the land that slays him in his dreams?
He looked back upon the only land he has known,
A land so cold a land of stone.
The armor he wore bore the scares of a thousand wars,