A Voice in the Dark

In the leafy shades of a wildwood, reflections of a distant light A tempting celestial song calling into the light leading to the sky Somber, so very intense, kneeling to the ground Gripe the soil! It turns into dust. Desperate fingers grasping, nothing. Escaping the vision so horrid Wandering through a meadow of grass On the misty ground sits a raven Staring silently in despise, it speaks: Denizen of demons path, inhabitant of ground at last Never fear the horned pact, be a part in the immense essence of life! We are the organ pipes of living frailty: A voice in the dark, so strong yet so fragile Now touch the serpent’s tongue and feel a true relief! The flower must wither, the flower must die We are the organ pipes of living frailty: A voice in the dark, so strong yet so fragile Now touch the serpent’s tongue and feel a true relief! The flower must wither, the flower must die again