The words in silence, spew from my mouth in anguish
I am torment rendered flesh
Watching threadbare lines of triumph
Swaying fragile in the winter
Upon a raised dais, lay dead all that were dear
Their corpses knelt in place, atrophied arms outstretched
In eternal longing to touch the altar of this memory
A life held so fragile, lost to eternal obscurity
Death is no end, only this phase overt and critical
Before and after I am judged, this is truly the end of me
The ashen woods darken, as the curtain falls
In a black room, where all are judged
Leaving behind a world, where no mark remains
So few stay praised, so many return to nothing
Our time is compressed, the end always looming
A caress of the blade, gleaming in scarlet
A welcoming hand offered, ushered into the dark