Shape of Despair the Mist ( Game of Thrones)

Shape of Despair the Mist (2000 Shades Slow my feet are Frozen their veins Still closing helplessly afar Waking the creatures within I am a lonely traveller awaiting to sleep Eternally under those cold woods As my fall brings then Shadows of their wings as howling their Pleads wounded, I lay on ground Listening their needs It s dark and cold And they fly slowly The way they were told. To feast mine fleshly dreaming. And they know surely, They raped mine soul.