The wilt
Dead hills
Sunken in solitude
Waves lap at my tired consciousness
The deepest level of existence
Drains into nothingness
Waves lap at my tired consciousness
The deepest level of existence
Drains into nothingness
I will find my everlasting solace
In the fields of dying flowers
In bloom with disgusting decay
They are sown from the seeds of my flesh
Soaring through endless streams
And washing ashore at my own perishing
Oh, how beautiful it is
To bask in the light of a dying sun
Reflected in the eyes of aeons past
And mirrored in the future
The extinguishing of an eternity
At long last we shall see the darkness
Of which we have dreamt forever
As this mortal plane drowns
I descend further and surpass
These borders of reality
And break free into death
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