DL (November 6,1988. / Pirmasins, Germany)

-materia Noctis Ab Lunae-

It’s getting dark,
The moonlights wanes-
The stars shine out,

And my heart lies in desolate shambles.
For all I try, for all I do;
These tears of labor,

The wheels of time.
These howls of pain;
This sob of anguish.

These torrent of senseless tears-
They fall below.
This screech of lamentation,

The fall from grace.
The loss of honor, and life lost.
The hiss of envy, the apathy of ignorance.

The swelter of retardation;
And here I sit, this lifeless mass.
A corpse, and nothing more.

This ambiguous being,
This purposeless entity,
This morass of pain.

I utter her name: Ursae
There is no echo, I am alone.
I can not see.

I have become the undead; a thing.
Crimson tears fall unnoticed.
I am blind.

The loss of sight,
The wound of culpability-
And as my deadened limbs fail me now,

In my hour of need;
I stand unprotected, accepting of my fate.
For I am no more but a whisper in the winds-

A memory of before-of what was.
I do not love.
I cannot cherish.

For I do not exist.
Death has claimed me.
And I pay his fee for admittance,

I am rowed down-
The river Styx flows furiously,
Its boiling waters curl angrily in swirls of onyx.

Unfettered souls call for offerings of blood,
And I await my turn;
Waiting for eternal peace, waiting for Death’s cool embrace.

And you take my hand, and sit me down.
You look me in my caucus eyes.
And then I know no more.

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