I see you running down an empty street,

Is there a secret place we could meet?

There is a spell I must explain the notion,

Too dangerous with this heavy commotion.

The spell itself is magical, an arctic of despair,

Blasting ice particles, freezing winter hair.

But use it wisely for danger is the law,

It’ll freeze your soul, ending of the core.

Your hair is winter fire but ill health sets in,

Flaming ice monster widens his grin.

Holy horns shatter with the blast of a trumpet,

Run fast because it’s you he’s out to get.

With a wave of wand, there’s not much fear,

Burnt, rocky skin from a hardened salt tear.

Watching Minotaur crumble in his hideout maze,

Blood encrusted venom upon his glossy gaze.

The sun rises to melt a body in the lake,

Fallen in during night, bury him for the sake.

Frozen lips stumble and crack open thy face,

Blackened blood like blackberries it tastes.

Run gentle fairy, bury the wand in the wood,

Never return to nature like it should.

Hide under a mask away from the gloom,

Frostbitten corpse until sunrise noon.