Thunders in the darkness Twinkle
Slowly stroking the unconsciousness
The putrid image that has been anchored to my eyes
And hundreds of scarlet threads going through my lips
The poison desecrating all indications of my rationality
When it wakes up everything will be nothing and a sigh
When I wake up there will be no warmth of what I was
I will be the Apocalypse of my enemies
For when I sleep he will come
Then it'll be chaos, then we'll be chaos.
