A narrow arch opens

Upon the hill

A midnight wave

Doth fourth spill

A great gnawing evil

Fills the land

A darkening fable

Is at hand

A rain of terror

Shall overcome all

A dark ferrour

Shall forge in his hall

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On a mountain far away

Out of the crimson fray

Where warriors sway

And knights bay

Where men flay

Or die today

A lonely child

Eyes of mild

With heart of wild

Shall be titled

The winter king

Will be his thing

He will bear the ring

And have frosty wings

A mossy throne will be revealed

Where the bravest heart will be healed

That brave heart, the kings shield

Will be knighted in a windswept field

They will bring peace

To the lands of frä ńeače

With new crimson peat

Making soil fertile, Come summer heat

None shall starve

For a few years more

Except that evil

Bereft and sore

Dragging its tale it will hide away

Until once more there are people to sway

For rebellion is the reaper

A dark repeater