Enter the fog draped Silva, ye sanguine flames of dusk
Carry me forth through the scent of dying flowers
Vain are the words that this cordial silence recites
When grief tinctured thoughts enshroud my voiceless sighs
Incline furtively into me, with no warmness of sympathy
'Tis not despise nor fear, what for the gloomy depths I foster
Where my sanity parched and seer shall weep
All defaced by soul scars incised so deep
In yearning suppressed, where the art of vanishing lurks
Reveries are blissful only when unearthed
For dustless my frail wings are still
Slashed by barbed wire arms
That once held me so dear
Of dolorous dreams, ridden with sickness internal, I feed
Grimly has the emotional volcano been smothered
While remembrances beseech, and the illusions depart
Wouldst thou hear the ever haunting rhymes
From the stab wound in my heart?
Mine is not the triumph over hostile ranks around me
But the formidable grasp of the all-devouring void inside
Deliver me from its claws tremendous
Cut me open forthwith
Release me, release me
Through the whirlwind of visions nondescript, I crawl
As I kiss the freezing lips of solitude
Onward to the cold hypnotic aurora
Of towers exalted by crystallized distress