I can feel enslavements serpentine coils wrap around me,
Leaving me with a breath weaker than the other.
With dripping fangs that ranged skywards,
They inflicted their venom into my celestial refuge,
Death bestows me it's drink of mezmerization,
A goblet of blood-red wine, so divine,
Yet so bitter to the taste and smell of a thousand corpses.
At the first sip, I can feel the blood in my vains freeze,
Severe tides conceil pain beneath dark waters,
By the moonlight mezmerized you walk the path of shattered dreams,
To the fortress called night where lost souls dance,
To the melodic whispers of the dead widow's song.
Moonlight's pale rays dance around me.
When all solitude is dragged down,
Six feet under to my abyss,
To the cold which has become my home,
Softly the light shines upon
The Tomb of my vanquished soul,
Casting shadows back from which they came,
To the circle of hell which used to bear my name.