Last of a Kind

When at night the owl is calling, portents imminent death
Darkness is awakening, feeding, breeding, coming to life
Nothing is good, nothing is evil, everything merely exists
Nothing is good, nothing is evil, everything just is

Last of a kind waiting out the allotted time

Here I lay screaming through the decades of decay
Flesh to dust, born from clay
Worms and vermin always have their way
Last of a kind

Whispering the secrets reminiscent of a storm
I call upon a whirlwind taking form
I call upon the soothing rain to flood their fires
I call upon the mighty winds to carry the ashеs away

All witches shall burn