[Verse]
[Hook]
Boris the Grizzly, shadow of the wood,
Devours the wolves and bathes in their blood.
Eternal hunger, eyes like burning coal,
Crusher’s cursed heir with a venomous soul.
Achilles slaughtered our blood in the blackest night,
Now we own the darkness, we feast on their fright.
Young fool howls challenge by Teal Lake’s shore,
Boris grins wide—death opens its door.
[Verse]
In fog-choked mountains where dead winds wail,
Boris awakens, his hatred unveiled.
Massive grizzly, fur matted with gore,
Razor claws dripping, craving more.
No mercy for wolves or their whimpering packs,
He stalks through the bones on forgotten tracks.
One scent on the breeze and he strikes like a curse,
Rips out their throats—makes their courage reverse.
[Verse]
It started with Crusher, colossal and proud,
Legend of the wild, until treachery bowed.
Achilles the wolf, with his treacherous pack,
Ambushed in moonlight, no way to strike back.
Surrounded by fangs in the smothering gloom,
Crusher roared thunder, but met only doom.
They tore him to pieces on blood-soaked ground,
Grizzlies swore vengeance that never comes down.
[Verse]
The feud festers deeper than roots in the grave,
Boris grew twisted on hatred’s black wave.
It claws at his mind till the sanity cracks,
Drives him through forests on merciless tracks.
Every wolf’s scream is sweet music to hear,
He leaves shattered spines and eyes wide with fear.
Opportunity whispers—he answers with glee,
Painting the pines with their agony.
[Verse]
Word slithers through deadwood: a young wolf so bold,
Dares challenge Boris at Teal Lake’s cold fold.
Thinks glory awaits for his pitiful pack,
But Boris’s bloodlust is already black.
“This whelp dreams of crowns? I’ll crown him in mud,
Crush every bone, paint the water with blood.”
He lumbers through mist to the moonlit shore,
Where death waits hungry for one victim more.
[Verse]
Teal Lake lies still like a mirror of doom,
Boris stands massive beneath blood-red moon.
Muscles like iron, a roar splits the night,
Young wolf steps forward—no fear in his sight.
Claws clash with fangs in a whirlwind of hate,
Old Crusher’s death fuels each merciless weight.
Boris tears deep, remembers the slaughter,
Rips out the life from the wolf’s final daughter.
Victory drips from his jaws as he stands,
Feud carved in flesh across bloodied lands.
Feud everlasting in grizzly bloodline,
Boris hunts shadows till the end of all time.
Wolves, hear his thunder—your end is foretold,
One roar in the dark… and your story turns cold