In a tower far away, the hunters become prey

For within its quiet halls is where the demon stays

For fools it's an errand's end, a blade that never bends

If you greet the beast you meet, you may make some friends

A wing of black, a wing of white

One takes the morn, one takes the night

An eye of gold, an eye of blue

The final choice is made by you.

If you come, what will you do?

Say hello or meet your doom?