Alone at tranquil twilight,
A distant churchbell tolls,
The wind forms a ghostly choir
To summon lost and wayward souls—
Snow drifts down from the heavens,
Like ghosts lost in the night—
Ice crystals cling to trees,
To set the woods aglow with light-
Along a forgotten forest path,
There stands an arch of ancient stone—
And amidst the hallowed ruins,
A solemn figure stands alone—
Snow comes to rest on raven's wings,
Covering black quills in ivory white—
And peace settles upon the earth
Beneath the ebon shroud of Winter's Knight—