Once I have gone away for good. Eternally into that black mist of dusk. Never to be found by life again. In my own misery of loneliness and despair. The screams of my unheard cries smothered by selfish hands. Strangled around my dead neck. I sit invisible upon the great divine of madness. On the otherside of time. Where immortals chase the ghosts of life away.
For I have lost my worldly sight. Yet my soul sees the truth of sheer darkness. It encompasses me with gentle kisses in the wind. Where crumbling walls still live in hallways. Sorrow rises up into spiritual archways. Dead flowers floating into the endless rooftops of Cathedrals. This dream is our tune of nocturnalism.
We shall strive for mortal blood on our lips. Broken and torn images succeed to kill the light. The gentle breeze of midnight sighs. If you are afraid of the light of earth. You should have grown wings of a butterfly by now. The Blind-sight shall show you the way. The soul compass points towards the dark.
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