A thousand whispered screams that sound,
like chided demons child
The voided world, like shadows sigh,
the waning moon hath died.
Lingers in the heart of man,
the soft caress of lust,
the mist, like a coy maidens veil,
lost secrets does entrust.
The silent tears which bathe the land,
a soft flower which falls,
a dark enigma, beyond words,
with eyes which tell it all,
The sweet words which intoxicate,
with lips like silver lace,
Aura of the sweating torrent,
glisten in the moon's sick face.
The clasp of life, in death's cold stare,
the sinful doth embrace,
wallowing in treacherous greed,
forsaken is its fate.
Reaching out into the night
echoes of the fallen,
vestiges of ancient beauty,
soon to be forgotten...
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