So, it has come to this All but solitude in Explicit detail Have folded and left me
Hopelessness grins and feeds with mirth My philosophies of death The nihilistic seal in which I once sought reason And spites with black, sarcastic tortures
So alas the sleeper dies In all devouring darkness consumed Where tears are blood from the soul
Facing mortality With trembling fingers As ever failing swords In truth and essence Old beliefs are like a splintered shield
Dying twixt the mills of God Grinding bones to flower The song makes bitter dances When crushed beneath that tower
Be still my bleeding heart Alas all love is dead Monumental in its overwhelming silence Flooding with hurt Burning with regret
