The wind is blowing grim
Inside this dismal churchyard
Its frozen breath creeps through the trees
No signs of life around
No funeral rites from years
It seems the world forgot about here
And I'm walking down this path
Among these crumbling stones
So old vestiges of a senseless vanity

The Gaze of The Owl

But while I observe all this
A hint of something evil
Comes from the darkness thrilling me
A sudden hoot alerts me
From the branch of a decayed tree
I know, now I've gone too far
And its curse is over me

The Gaze of The Owl