I was born where the timber cracks under frost’s sharp bite

Counting tales of the legends and their lost might

Names like Thorn and Iron, their spirits still rise

In my veins runs the sorrow, in my hand, the icy guise

My father’s hammer, forged in the coldest night

A steady grip, a cold hand that won’t let me fight alone

Through the storms and the silence, I walk this lone path

With the hammer’s weight, I bear the burden of wrath

In the land of the frozen, where the trees stand tall

I carry my sorrow, and I wield my steadfast hall

Through the howling winds and the biting cold

I’m Timber Frost, with a hammer, a heart, and a bold

Legends tell of the battles, the fire and the snow

But in the end, it’s the hammer that makes the show

Resilient and strong, through the ice and the flame

I am Timber Frost, in the shadows, I claim

In the heart of the wilderness, where the timber grows thin

I find my strength in the hammer, my only kin

With every strike, the frost turns to steel

I am Timber Frost, where the cold meets the real

In the land of the frozen, where the trees stand tall

I carry my sorrow, and I wield my steadfast hall

Through the howling winds and the biting cold

I’m Timber Frost, with a hammer, a heart, and a bold.