Produced from the maelstrom of neglection
my nocturnal prayer died away
in the unreality of a never ending happiness
"My prayer...?"
"Died away in eternity!"

If there's live before death
it's not for me
who spreads his dark cold pinion
over the eternal silence
of a gnawed frosty winter landscape
"My prayer...?"
"Died away in eternity!"

The answer of the mystery
which is put into my hands
is the unholy property of a
longest forgotten insufficiency
which built [bad word] pillars
indulges in senseuality to the
morbid repulsiveness [bad word] 
"and what moves there in the shadow?"
"It's your image!"
"Who calls there in the mirror?"
"It's [bad word] #33;"

Unrestlessness whispering appearences
shatter the frail ear
which escapes with the folly
of an unconcerned remonstration
up through black dirt into the light