The midnight moon shall soon be my tomb
And all its light will come crashing down
The light will strike the earth with such a plague
My death will be known as a tragedy for the earth
Never to be remembered well
The midnight moon is now my tomb
The tragedy is still waiting to come
There are no rains of fire
and no one yet knows my name
Oh but when they do
The midnight moon forever my tomb
The tragedy has just begun
a grin across my long gone face
the screaming comes from the grounds
The shout were so loud
They were almost musical
My dead grin only grew wider across my forever pale face
Fire rain the most beautiful thing ever to be
The most beautiful tragedy.
My name they shout
Mercy
My name they chant
Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem