As I walk through the valley of death
I fear no evil, for I am evil
The lost souls call out to me, wailing so helplessly
Men, women, and children, have been waiting for centuries
The ashes in the air, the billowing tower of smoke
I see thirteen bleeding souls once dead; thump again this night
Thus, as I approach, hands from the ground, try to grip my blood stained cloak.
A fight lies ahead, for those once dead, let me terrorize your fright
Evil has her wicked fury when what is mine is denied
Step aside, righteous ones you cannot hide behind your white light
Thirteen souls I vow to claim this night
One by one, imps gather and bind, they giggle in delight
I lower my lashes in sweet victory, savory the smell
Opening my void black eyes to the ones wearing white
I whisper, 'Every century, why must we have this fight
I reach behind me to grab a black feather, a token of my devotion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem