Moments flashes in a wink,
does it bring wicked retrospections?
How cruel draping of the pale chronicle,
it hangs there for me to suffer.
It's a glistening light of death,
a blinding sparkle of love,
shining a deceitful heart,
a glimmering sense of false hope!
I lay in wait of depraved voices in my head,
whispering a soft muted villainous care,
but that mumbling dead words,
an apparent pitfall of distinct twinkling
