Walking through the woods of Lethya,
Snowed under with a secret phobia.
They entered in the forest, keeping along the lake,
Still believe in their quest that no one could ever break.

In the shadows of the trees,
Stands a sorrow on her needs,
She'll be satisfied to see them die,
Under the moonlight.

Covering their faces overcast,
Their cloaks spinning around in a blast.
A slow move in the groves, stirring up their fears,
They pray to see a dove circling through the leaf.

She pretends to be the cruellest,
She turns your hopes into dust,
She is the witch of the forest, the mistress of lust.

She pretends to be the cruellest,
She turns your hopes into dust,
She is the witch of the forest, the mistress of lust.

In the shadows of the trees,
Stands a sorrow on her needs,
She'll be satisfied to see them die,
Under the moonlight.

Suddenly surrounded by the light,
A little triumph without any fight,
Elves in the blizzard appeared just where she stood,
Led them without a word at the edge of the wood.

She pretends to be the cruellest,
She turns your hopes into dust,
She is the witch of the forest, the mistress of lust.