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