silver sky and I lie down 
You don't provoke me anymore 
These hours try 
And we go down 
And horror yields a door 
The light outlives the setting sun 
End a day to shun 
My senses slip 
lie begun 
From all to none
 
The black as painted by the moon 
Colour filth from which we've hewn 
Beckon [bad word] it ends too soon 
All wanting hope [bad word] 

The storm that rose the [bad word] gale 
Awaken into dismal pale 
My senses blank, the sleepers veil 
Where and why the burning fail
 
nightmare catalyst 
Harness delusion