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