years Are the fervent hopes now lost in imperfections The emaciated soul seeks to conceptualize itself In an illusion to the temporary real Within,
번역: 성찬배. 임시 진실을 일루션.
Acheron How grandiose the touch will be when each caress is gone How bitter rests bereavement on the souls of those bereaved Funereal our lust, through an
prior years Are the fervent hopes now lost in imperfections The emaciated soul seeks to conceptualize itself In an illusion to the temporary real Within
My better self was always born tomorrow Though the wings of failed seraphs I would borrow As nights became obsessed with introspection The days a contravention
One must be remiss when their prospects of bliss Will abandon all reason to blend with decay A banquet of fools in the lunatic season The cards that
Never shall I love another earthborn face And I (the knave, the fool) will stay inept Condemned to forge a barren hell To deify and then dispel That
Such hellish thoughts relinquished In the nightmares heaven sent Reflecting on the obsolescent Moments that we gauge Embody what is life Is just the stigma of an
Her mind engulfed with loathsome thoughts,the devil and dismay The burden of lifes' theatre and the stage on which we play Autumnal sun, no peace upon
