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