The Black-Night's Frosted Hawk. I lie awake at midnight, Staring out over placid seas, I can feel his eyes upon me, I can see his turbulent dreams. . His yellowed eyes look through my window, Filling me with ominous thoughts, His eyes are empty and mournful, And at the same time full of mirth. . Pictures waltz inside my room, Demons beam down at me from above, And still his eyes bore into me Through the mist in a frosted heart. . The night is frozen with silence, He still waits outside for me, He waits for me to feed him hope, He still waits for me to see. . He will not spread his wings and fly, He will not leave me be, And in the darkness of the hour, My eyes see only he. . When I look at him he looks away, His eyes a cruel jury, His mouth is carved of anger pure, His legs, a mockery of fury. . I reach out to him, and he pulls away, Scars deeper than a surgeon's knife, Yes, he always knows what you're thinking, In his twisted, manacled life. . He always knew how to feel free, He always had cocky talk, Yes, he always knows what you're thinking, The Black-Night's Frosted Hawk. . He always knows what I'm thinking, My Black Night's Frosted Hawk.