Les Visiteurs De Minuit

shipwrecked delirious at 89 bunker street there lives my cloudberry doll singing the songs of the blue hour there lives my chantress with wax wings my dormant (tor)mentor of keyhole view reanimér les mémoires d'automne in cryptic silence of a ramshackle silo too late! I noticed the pallor of peonies now here come the sleepers of far-off borders les visiteurs de minuit, the soldiers of melancholy obsessed with sacred orders and the sleepers shall not be awaken for their spirits are in a perfect rapture along with the pain that maddens my brain that's when the hunter becomes the capture that's when their sight turns into sick la gloire ignoré, les yeux fatidique