As the Moon shines pale and the stars align,
the coldness shrieks, thorns at chess.
Now, here the stars will never shine,
and mind-forged demons, unveiled, undress.

Sweeping', love and friends seems withering,
and all those sighs and pretty lies
together with you, shivering
fall apart and die.

My cravings seem to lose perspective;
the passion's rotting and gone cold.
The dread now seems as less selective, 
as time slows down and are at hold.

The hours late; submissions gloomy,
the beauty seems so hard to save.
Something's missing, and insists
on escaping from my solemn grave.

The sky is pouring rain and thunder;
no bright assumptions left in sight,
as sanity is torn asunder
and they are screaming out at night.

The line is tremblin', slowly,
no mother there to hear my call,
and all I used to hold as holy,
now echoes in an empty hall.