In Thre Name Of Death

I can transform my voice into typhoons.

My silhouette is great as the shades of crows.

Lonely without your embrace i sing a sad poem.... destroyed from inside with agony and apathy.

In the name of death, i can see her eyes at the back of the night, through the coldness moon.

I am sailing crestfallen the river of dead…. i walk alone the path of sorrow.

I was cramped into a coffin glass, that it was sealed and rushed to the sea.

I heard my voice sigh; i saw my dead body falling down into a putrid common grave.

I felt a black spectrum was slanting my soul.

In the earth where i lay dead roses will grow....