The Crossing 27. 12. 04

The glow of the sunset empurpled the skies
The cold northern winds spread the wings of demise
The hellfire lit up the dark Reaper's throne
And with the hoarse storm's breath the soil turned to stone
The tears of the night fell down freezing the seas
They've set the decline with no chance to release
I see the black snow palled the funeral heath
The hope is a torture; the faith is a myth

The fables are told and my muse flies away
Her home is the world of my vague yesterday
But even there she will find nothing but doom
That took out my last dream. What else 'twill consume?
The aimless deciduous existence goes on
But to its inane rituals I don't belong
Ten years of my sorrow soon will be complete
And still I can't quit my eternal retreat

Life passed by my murky realm. Should I regret?
The thoughts of this sad matter cause just the fret
Have I lost much more than obtained or was I
The only one hearing this land's woeful cry?
What's tearing my wounded heart piercing the brain?
The latent infection of reason? The bane?
I'm tired of my grief and the sharp dawning ache
Sometimes I desire just ne'er to awake...

But here at the crossing my spirit is calm
I stand and the crystal ice melts on my palm
The Predestination is not but the word
And those, who did struggle, shall get their reward
My verse can't describe all the anguish I feel
Including the secrets I had to conceal
But no one's forgotten and as the Truth's ray
The sacrament's kept in my bosom for aye