When cut across the neck, a sound like wailing winter winds is heard, they say. I'd always hoped to cut someone like that someday, to hear that sound. So don't tempt me.

Lurking in the shadows i silently fall in yours, Cutting you; within and without

I lye in every shadow, My blade in every wind

Daylight is your eye, darkness is mine

Shadows are without form,thus without weakness.