She walks past the icy road.
She floats by the freezing sea.
She carries a cold heart inside
Her expression is the reflection I see.

She laughs as it passes by 
She haunts the rolling, painful cry.
She goes for the treasure that hide
Her expression is the reflection I see.

Her tears are made of Howling Blood
Her face reads out for help.
She would tell if her mouth wasn’t filled with mud
She can’t talk with the reflection I see.

Her senses are cut from ear to ear
Her feeling of expression is harsh.
She has no warm heart and has nothing to fear
As if she was beautiful clothing torn apart.

Because her reflection is all I see.