Nocturne of Wounds

A pallid night, a void's umbral reign, Emptiness, a phantom, claimed the lane. A dirge of noir, a melancholic strain, Echoes, sepulchral, whispered in the rain. The phantasmal memory, a haunting pain, The keloid scars, where shadows still remain. A thunderous hush, a silence stark and deep, The vise of anguish, where dark tendrils creep. A preternatural dread, secrets to keep, The cerulean sky, a frigid, crimson weep. The ichor thickened, where dark currents sleep, Celestial cinders, from heavens steep, The wind, a banshee's cry, secrets to reap, Echoes, sepulchral, whispered in the rain. The phantasmal memory, a haunting pain, The keloid scars, where shadows still remain. For all my trespasses, a shadowed stain, My mind, a catacomb, where shadows reign. My sentence, being, an endless, bleak campaign, No virtuous soul, to ease this mortal pain. A spectral echo, where grace has been slain, A prodigal's descent, in sorrow's hurricane. Each breath, a shroud, a suffocating chain, My heart, a tempest, in a frantic, wild refrain. The cardiac threnody, a whispered, dark domain, Echoes, sepulchral, whispered in the rain. The phantasmal memory, a haunting pain, The keloid scars, where shadows still remain.