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- - - HEIR OF THE ARDENT FIRE - - -
Cruel are the winds of the northern frost
Bitter as the bite of Stygian steel
Beating at the iron of The Reaper's door
Our hour of reckoning draws near
My crimes I've laid at my beloved's feet
Lo, tales of woe from a pitiless time
Seeking redemption from one such as me
Steeped in her damnation and bitter wine
She casts another stone
Across my tomb, alone
And left a wilted rose
In dreams that her tears wove
The rain lashes against her face
Smoldering upon vetted tears
She is the heir of the ardent fire
Brazen enough to melt my heart of steel
Pushing away the ghosts of the northern frost
Our hour of reckoning draws near
A precipice stretches betwixt our hearts
The black abyss studded with ancient graves
No sovereignty for long dead gods
Once more to the fray, I will find my way
She looks into the globe
Spinning with powder snow
A scene of winter bliss
And burns it with a kiss
The snow lashes against her face
Smoldering upon vetted tears
She is the heir of the ardent fire
Brazen enough to melt my heart of steel
Pushing away the ghosts of the northern frost
Our hour of reckoning draws near
No gods or demons hold fear over me
For my Hell is real without her embrace
She possesses the beating heart I need
Without it I might as well be erased
Cruel are the winds of the northern frost
Bitter as the bite of Stygian steel
Beating at the iron of The Reaper's door
Our hour of reckoning draws near
The rain lashes against her face
Smoldering upon vetted tears
She is the heir of the ardent fire
Brazen enough to melt my heart of steel
Pushing away the ghosts of the northern frost
Our hour of reckoning draws near
(c) 2016 Frank Green
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