Killing gives off a chilling ring.
That goes off down the spine.
Just like a crying dibbun.
That will no longer whine.
The long blade goes far and deadly.
And all is white on the head.
But when the icy blade goes through.
The unmoving body is dead.
You are helpness, and never were,
After all is done.
For your legs no longer ever move.
Never more will you ever run...