Deep in the shadows,
alone in the cold.
The nightmare begins,
the horror unfolds.

Born out of darkness,
by the master of death.
It crawls through the night,
devours with it's breath.

It feeds on ignorance,
and lives off of fear.
It slows down for none
and stops for no tears.

It feels not for the poor,
cares not for the old.
It loves not the children,
and fears not the bold.

It backs down for none,
and fights all who dare,
to test out it's might,
and enter it's lair.

If not for those few
who fear not the beast,
it would conquer the world,
with all as it's feast.

They face the dragons
that ravish the lands,
armed not with swords,
but courage and hands.

They are the heroes
that arrive in the night,
upon their chariots
covered with light.

They rescue the prisoners
held in the grasp,
of the ruler of Hell,
the Devil in mask!

When the dragon is dead,
and all is well again,
they remount their chariots
simply as men.

They ride off in the night,
as swift as they came,
to battle another.....
Beast of the flame.