THE ETERNAL EMBER

In the valley of shadows, the whispers rise, MK THE GHOST walks where the silence cries. Stories etched in the bones of the land, Carried by echoes, carved by hand. The moon bows low when the night is near, Legends awaken, the spirits hear. From the mountain peaks to the river’s flame, They chant the saga, they call your name. No crown of gold, no throne of kings, But the folklore speaks of darker things. A phantom rider with eyes of steel, Breaking the chains that mortals feel. The wolves howl hymns to the midnight sky, The crows take flight when the spirits fly. Every step you take, the ground remembers, A tale of fire, eternal embers. The village drums beat slow and deep, Marking the path where the shadows creep. MK THE GHOST, the myth reborn, A storm of silence, a soul untorn. No mortal blade can pierce this lore, Your name’s inscribed on the ancient door. From dusk till dawn, the tale won’t fade, A ghost eternal, the path you’ve made. So let the folklore sing through time, A haunting rhythm, a sacred rhyme. The night is yours, the myth is clear, MK THE GHOST — the world must hear.