Beckon all to come so swiftly,
I will see the sky.
When the bells chime for hourglass eye
To see the wind below.
Visits come from shadowy things
To my soul my darkness clings
Stinging; making my flickering candle fade
What is left of me that is of worth?
Crowded in by mellow creatures
Corpses all speaking too loud,
I cannot see through the aura of their spiteful words...
Such a deep red my eyes have become...
My darkness the corpses do dread.
