Besmirching the moonbeam,
Griming the fairylight,
A dead soul I'm, trying to scintilate my black dreams
In the darkness of midnight,
Those dreams, darker than the arena
Beneath my eyes,
Drier than the dead petals of my lips.
Long buried underneath
My melancholic skin,
Singing a cacophony
And mourning with wolves
Moving onwards and upwards
Towards the dark alleys and witch's valleys
Along with the dark hopes
Those bloomed with the wild blossoms
Storming the aroma of gore
That shed in butchery of cacoethes.
Alongside the dreams and hopes
Scratching the beauty of night
An unbeautiful dead soul I'm,
Trying to glisten my darkness of my faded life
Amidst the brightness of beauty.