| The autumn sun is restrained to wither
|
| As the winter assumes with its pale pride
|
| The last of life is smothered
|
| Only the remembrance of a season’s departure is left behind
|
| As a ghastly hand sweeps the landscape
|
| The eternal conquering of seasons
|
| And deprivement of beauty and life
|
| The sun is restrained to wither
|
| Only to perish into the twilight of seasons
|
| An eternal eclipse between phases of conquering
|
| (Gather In Me No More)
|
| This penetrating pain arousing from its sleep
|
| This pallid flesh hiding in shades
|
| These hollow orbits watering the ground
|
| Frantic ghouls lurking in my shadow
|
| Reptiles crawling under my skin
|
| Temptations
|
| Swansong from the tarn
|
| Cold caresses of a quivering shroud
|
| The phasma cradling me in its arms
|
| Its wormwood tongue rasping my face
|
| Flee from me, spirits of ferocity
|
| And open the gates of this limbo
|
| Come to me, bringer of joy
|
| And disembody my pain
|
| Hinder the inflow of figments
|
| Let them gather in me no more
|
| Stop the bleeding
|
| Heal my wounds
|
| Melt the frost in my veins
|
| Dissolve the sickened — red haze round me
|
| And stop the toll of the knell |