The wind whispers dissonant tones.
In dark discord and feral moans
Of pointless admiration spent,
Another dream has come, and went.
Yes, comes awake, and willfully
Passed into the dawn of decree;
A grievous task set before
Me, once encompassed, nevermore...
To hold the chalice of truth dear,
Drink of ambition without fear
Of retribution by the hands
Of Time within a timeless land...
As specters roam the gilded aisles
Of Memory, chasing the smiles
Clean from my cold and gasping lips
Into the rictus of Eclipse.
And eyes, pinned open, wide awake,
Could never be enough to slake
The foreboding of daunted Sleep
Calling me to his brother's keep.
But dreams of those who dream as I,
Aspiringly, are damned and die.