Cycle of life and death supposedly
Goes ’round and ’round yet it stops with me
Glorious hunter of my faith I have sinned
Killers are quiet like the breath of the wind
Filling the shadows with forms of my own
Raised by kindred of Get I was born
Abomination world in disarray
Killers are quiet when they seek the vitae
Reflection beckons a portal shard
Spiritual quest I must stay on guard
Stepping sideways between worlds I shift
Killers are quiet when they’re born with the gift
Beautiful anguish, cast out by my race
Now one that’s ageless I save my own face
I write my own laws, with death I break bread
Killers are quiet when they come from my head
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