In the dead of night, where whispers wail.
Rise a figure clad in darkness, armored in the silent night.
Forged by sorrow, in the forge of hate.
A knight who rides for vengeance, with its soul forever marred.

With every clink of metal, echoes rise and fall,
A tale of loss and fury, a darkened, vengeful call.

Hear the clanging of his armor, like the bells of doom that toll,
A symphony of sorrow in the darkness of his soul.
A specter in full metal, a ghost in the fray,
His purpose unwavering, by night or by day.

Eyes like embers, smoldering with the fires of his rage,
A spirit bound to suffering, an endless, bitter cage.
He seeks the ones who wronged him, through the tempest, through the mire,
A phantom of...