I wish my sun may not rise,
No difference! All I see is darkness,
It rises with me as the Cock cries,
The silence, the harrowing emptiness,
(The Ravens Smile...)
The feeling that I can't be good enough, maybe I was born for this trenches,
Another casualty for natures hands,
To fizzle and die in the land of plenty,
(Now they draw near...)
To gaze at what I'll never have,
To taste for it and not be quenched,
To hunger for it and not be filled,
To hold for a while and never have.
(Nearer, they come!)
My nights; a desperate struggle,
Of hope against an army of despair.
The cold tears through my quaking being,
And sleep plagues me with dreadful dreams,
I moan, plagued by my misery,
The Ravens rejoice in my agony,
A signal; a soul ripe for taking
My soul aches from hours of fending,
(..... They stop, uncertain)
I pray for my Dawn,
But my despair forms the evernight,
A foreboding; the flight of dawn and light,
Unending, Unchanging, Unimaginable,
("Surely now!" They shreik)
All I seek; a ray of light,
To catch my breath and hope,
Another reason to Up and Fight,
Salvation from this tempting rope.
This chasm, this silence, this darkness.
This Depression.