Over trees standing tall on sloping mountain sides
Mystic winds drift through dense clouds of misty fog
Shrill sounds of chill and sorrow echoes through the hills
With darkened mystical shapes of the moon's eerie shadows
A howling cry in a far distant shudders branches with fallen snow
A trail of grayish smoke slitters across decaying clouds in the sky
The spirit of doomsday lingers waiting for the moon to fall
While thunderous rolls of electrifying streaks consumes tree tops tall..
I am stranded, nowhere to go, I call out your name as it echoes
far and wide,
I see it floating over mountain tops up into the smokey reddish sky,
But you do not hear me, no one hears me,
I have been left to die~~
All I can do is wait for the moon to fall!!
