Red hair tangled in a hooded shroud, Standing tall beneath a blazing cloud. Pitch-black eyes where the shadows weep, Holding secrets that the night keeps deep. A gothic design with a silver crest, "My Dark Heart" beating in her chest. And she holds the cards of the silent doom, Pulling the curtains in a velvet room. Thirteen carved on every ancient frame, Death rides out and calls your name. In the crimson glow where the embers start, Behold the queen of my dark heart. Fingers tipped in black like obsidian stone, Wearing rings of bone upon her throne. A fan of cards spread wide and high, Underneath a smoky, burning sky. The rider on the horse with the scythe in hand, Brings the final frost across the land. And she holds the cards of the silent doom, Pulling the curtains in a velvet room. Thirteen carved on every ancient frame, Death rides out and calls your name. In the crimson glow where the embers start, Behold the queen of my dark heart. Dark tears falling from eyes unseen, The tragic grace of a shadow queen. The cards face down, the deal is cast, The night has won, the die is past. Crimson hair against the midnight shroud, Eyes of pitch that stare without a sound. Blackened tears upon a porcelain face, Holding court within a haunted place. Ringed fingers grasp the parchment tight, While embers drift across the burning night. Dealer of shadows, master of fate, Opening wide the forbidden gate. Thirteen is drawn with a skeletal hand, Bringing the reaper across the land. Look in her eyes as the embers part, And read the truth of my dark heart. A fan of ruin spread across the palms, Offering dread instead of holy psalms. The horseman rides on a ruined frame, Whispering softly your final name. Obsidian nails on the edge of doom, Shadows stretching across the room. Dealer of shadows, master of fate, Opening wide the forbidden gate. Thirteen is drawn with a skeletal hand, Bringing the reaper across the land. Look in her eyes as the embers part, And read the truth of my dark heart. The cards fall down, the smoke clears low, Nothing left for the winds to blow
