Farewell

was i bewitched by the thin red line
and let it snip the silver twine
i stare in silence
that is minediscomfort of my silent fear, so icy cold,
yet somehow seems to sear my soul
until the ache's too much to bear,
as mortal life now disappearsto steal sweet youth before it turned to gold.
existence now is not what i was told;wastelands of sorrow, i welcome all i receive
blood before tears, you will see
cold and redundant, i deserve everything i getwhat joy, want for nothing
sweet rapture for i am nothingdesolation is a delicate thing