 |
||||||||||||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|||
|
the glinting silvers from the beautiful blade spark in my brain promises of release the sweet, cold, burning agony the price for eternal rest in land of fantasy after entering your grave's dark embrace shyly lying beneath your velvet wing sleep should come and make its peace with me in death that i never had in life, but tell me true if your bloody lovers' clutch will deliver from all my misery or shall i writhe in a land of pain worse than the one in which i dwell forbidden even the grace of your wrath?
|
|||