A Cure for Reveries XXXI.I.2020
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I was told by the sorrow,
For the distress which is going to be -
The hateful light of tomorrow
Brings just nothing to me.
I am cadaver of catoblepas,
I am the spectre, haunting the Charon's raft;
I am a walking pale carcass,
I am the bane inside the witch's craft.
The moon above october's mist
Is everything I ever need;
I dont believe the sunlight really exist,
For all I know is how to bleed.
Crows of my sorrow,
Heralds of void and eclipse -
Grow dark my tomorrow,
Take the breath from my lips.
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