Moonlight bleeds on the midnight ground, Dead trees bow with a hollow sound. Seven shadow-wolves, born of flame, Bound to my blood, they bear my name. Eyes like embers in the freezing gloom, Breath like smoke from the grave’s perfume. They pad in silence, but the earth still shakes, Where their oath to me will never break. Through the forest dark we run, Past the graves where the lost are one. Fang and blade in the black sky’s hue, Flesh to the night, but the soul cuts through. For my prince lies chained in the dungeon deep, Bound in a curse and a nightmare sleep By my blood and theirs, I swear and grieve, Through the forest dark we weave. Branches claw at my battle crown, The wolves strike shadows, tear them down. Their howls split heaven like a spear of sound, And the forest shudders to the cursed ground. We cross the river where the dead still dream, Their pale hands claw at the silver stream. But the pack runs sure where the living drown, And the ghosts shrink back from the hunters’ frown. Through the forest dark we run, Past the graves where the lost are one. Fang and blade in the black sky’s hue, Flesh to the night, but the soul cuts through. For my prince lies chained in the dungeon deep, Bound in a curse and a nightmare sleep— By my blood and theirs, I swear and grieve, Through the forest dark we weave. Silver eyes in the night’s cold face, We tear through the wards the wizard placed. Fire in our breath, frost on our fur, Every step, the dark will blur. Through the forest dark we tore, Past the graves and the trees that roared. Wolf and woman, the fearless few, Shredded the night, the black we slew. Now my prince awakes from the dungeon deep, Freed from the spell and the nightmare sleep And our names shall burn while the stars still weave, Through the forest dark we leave.
