Why should I have to walk the aisles of dark,
Amongst the lifeless path of breathless air?
While horns of hell and harps of heaven hark,
My footsteps which has found no gate for prayer.
Must mornings be midnights malevolent mask,
Dire and dim and dry of desert days?
Breathless without a ray of light to bask,
Upon my restless soul and morbid maze...
I wander without wonder, weak with woe,
Watching the world with eyes blind men have worn,
Reaching for gifts God's glare granted to grow,
Inside of Death, whose flowers loom and mourn.
Longing to live... lifeless and lost I lie,
Descending into darkness dreams that die