(Verse 1) Thad Beaumont, a writer known, For tales that spun, a life unknown. George Stark, a shadow, dark and deep, A hidden self, secrets to keep. (Chorus) The dark half stirs, a whispered name, A chilling presence, fueled by flame. From page to life, a twisted birth, A separate soul, unleashed on Earth. (Verse 2) A pen, a page, a potent spell, Unleashes evil, a vengeful yell. The line is blurred, the fiction bleeds, Into reality, planting seeds. (Chorus) The dark half stirs, a whispered name, A chilling presence, fueled by flame. From page to life, a twisted birth, A separate soul, unleashed on Earth. (Bridge) A town consumed by fear and dread, As Stark's dark reign unfolds ahead. A trail of bodies, cold and still, The author's guilt, against his will. (Verse 3) The struggle rages, dark and grim, To conquer Stark, and overcome him. A battle waged, within the soul, To reclaim the self, and make it whole. (Chorus) The dark half stirs, a whispered name, A chilling presence, fueled by flame. From page to life, a twisted birth, A separate soul, unleashed on Earth. (Outro) The ink runs dry, the story ends, But echoes linger, shadows blend. The dark half sleeps, or so it seems, A haunting whisper in forgotten dreams. The dark half sleeps… but does it dream? The dark half sleeps… or is it free?
