Your demise shall start as the skies turn red

And ignite the spark in the living dead

The wolves shall bay, and the sun will burn

At evil's rise, the son will turn

As the willows shake, and the pines blow wild

The man shall take a helpless child

The red will fade, and turn to black

As the child walks behind his back

So the story goes, there is a man inflamed

Who shall have his son to make his claim

And try you will to evade his eyes

But the story ends with your demise