Winter came upon this land of death,
A final plague, a final whither.
In sweeping tides of this dawn's breath,
There had been plagues of ruin, plagues of war, and now one of wintry zephyr.

The skies were clogged with steel clouds,
And all villas came to be choked with ice and soot.
The lands were stifled by porcelain shrouds,
And all seas came to be fouled by blood and root.

All the kings were dressed in rags and fed mice,
And all the wombs stuffed with cold earth.
All the decayed peoples divided by endless fields of ice,
And all their infants damned to a frozen birth.

Violent winds starved lonely hills of serenity,
Thus conjuring blizzards of seclusion.
In this empire of famine,
Bloody nails broke ice abroad the horizon,
As the starving hungrily clawed at frozen tundra,
And found only misanthropy
To sate their hunger.