Cycle of life and death supposedly
goes 'round and 'round yet it stops with me
Glorious hunters of my faith I have sinned
Killers are quiet like the 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 in guard
Stepping sideways betweens worlds I shift
Killers are quiet when they are 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 | 
