When a little child is growing She thinks she is immortal But each time becomes more painful until finally her soul is broken No matter how strong was her desire Reaching the Holy Light of her Lord Her world will burn like a moth in a candle flame Yet she will be the one to inhale the dying smoke And she will step aside Before a new desire In darkness that holds Nothing more terrible Than what she will become The witch of the worlds The wolf of the woods The snow will fall From the summer skies And frozen lakes Will breathe fires Fresh as the breeze of mist Rising from the twilight fields She will fly again A naked flame burning free She is a typhoon unleashed Riding a thousand-headed beast The abyss below a storming sea A serum born of venoms and poisons The antibody of the universes The witch of the worlds The wolf of the wood