|
In the darkest light performs |
|
The enchanting choir of shadows |
|
Bleeding its madness into me |
|
Leaving me fragments of things that never were whole |
|
Just broken glass, a masqerade from the past |
|
I heard the door and a figure came from the corridor |
|
Shapeless it was as told but Its tar black blood was gone |
|
I heard it got torn apart |
|
It settled by my table and leaned on Its scythe |
|
Which It still carried along though |
|
It had gone blunt and rusted through |
|
I listed to the weary sound of Its breath |
|
And together we watched the choir of shadows play |
|
All the way to the very last encore |
|
Until even the darkest light had gone |
|
And in the end there were no applause |
|
Only dust covered the empty hall |
|
And a sole harmonized, hollow heart |
|
In the darkest light performs |
|
The enchanting choir of shadows |
|
Bleeding its madness into me |
|
Leaving me fragments of things that never were whole |
|
Just broken glass, a masqerade from the past |
|
I heard the door and a figure came from the corridor |
|
Shapeless it was as told but Its tar black blood was gone |
|
I heard it got torn apart |
|
Until even the darkest light had gone |
|
And in the end there were no applause |
|
Only dust covered the empty hall |
|
And a sole harmonized, hollow heart |
