My faith and trust are swept like straws,
From out my grasp by tempest's woe,
As I devour the bitter ash,
Of soul's despair of haunting sorrow.
Dank and gloomy mausoleum,
Erected by death's loathsome lust,
Man's unperverted ethereal mask,
Conventions are by evil crushed.
Shrouded chambers of formless haunts,
Recoil in horror as shadows bleed,
Clouds of terror reach fingers out,
Dark spirits stalk; hell hath decreed.
Wtih mournful soul and quivering limbs,
Am touched upon by lifeless breath,
Stand face to face with sin and death.