A silent wood forbids the sun from coming ever closer
Deep within, a lake there lies in several shades of silver
In the darkest part of this blackest lake, a beauty there resides
A siren of a different sort - her ashen soul will sing
A haunting melody of stories never told.
She cries and tries but never dies and cannot reach the top
Rusted chains of the magic way bind her to the floor
The best of demon warriors forever guard their prize
A tale she tells of horrid things, of blood and hate and evil:

On this day at Bloody Run, she weeps, took place a ghastly battle
The fires flared, the fangs were bared, and no one left alive
Across the bridge on Troubled Ridge there was an ancient home
From there forth came a mass of creatures - winged, dark, and deadly
Their eyes were grey, their crimson lips drank only from this stream
In emptiness there lurked the demons, hissing and stanced to fight
Their eagerness lay solely in the impending chance to kill.
Both sides broke out in calls of hate and shrieks of war and death
And hence they charged with weapons drawn, no mercy in their minds
Into hearts of vile intent, swords were plunged and twisted
No innocent that crossed their paths was spared
Screams of pain and fury echoed throughout this dreadful place
The river filled with crimson and with black it ever flowed
At the end of night were foul smells and bodies strewn about
By break of dawn no single trace was left upon this cursed ground.

The siren then began to sob - took the sun's breath away
Such beauty destroyed by a shattered heart and all in one night's work
And only she, the unnoticed witness, could ever speak these words
But chained here by Lucifer, no one shall ever hear her cries.