Slow mine feet are,
|
frozen their veins.
|
Still closing helplessly afar,
|
waking the creatures within.
|
|
I am a lonely traveller,
|
awaiting to sleep eternally.
|
Under those cold woods,
|
as my fall brings them.
|
|
Shadows of their wings,
|
as howling their pleeds.
|
Wounded, i lay on ground
|
listening their needs
|
|
It's dark and cold
|
and they fly slowly
|
the way they were told.
|
To feast mine fleshly dreaming.
|
And they know surely,
|
they raped mine soul.
|
|
-----------------
|
...In the Mist
|
| Shape of Despair |
