
Dead Winter Days
There lies a beauty behind forbidden wooden doors
A beauty so rare and pure, it would make human eyes bleed and burn
She killed herself in the fall
I am the unmaker, I bring death to the beautiful dawn
With pillor, cold, and a legion of dying angels
I killed myself in the spring
A grim bough had hung me high
I sank the fires of the Sol
Here, nightfall reigns
I oppose the light
I gather the storms
with a sword I wield with hate
I shot down the sun with bow and flame
Pillorian for the dead winter
I am the unmaker
The pillorian, the ending
I, die
I damn you the dead winters
Autor(es): J. Anderson / John Haughm