Who I calling she?

Before the place existed and the time was,

She made her first cry to make us hear her call,

But there was not a place to dwell in.

As the light departed from the shattered sun,

Then carried gloom to the landscape of that yard,

She was asleep in the land where there was no one.

Her throat had embraced the dark nails of cruelty,

But she tried to leave from the edge of that chaos.

Evacuated her grave, she dwells in the night, lingers in infinity.

She arose like a ghost from her old gray tomb,

Approached their soul with a devilish touch

And suddenly sparkled to become our new host.

As an undead she is, she feels a strong blood desire

Wandering in the night, through the woods,

Through the land, in the woods, in an eternal fire.

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