Weakening, waving, rotting away
A corpse lies upon your bed
Limbless, crawling, stalking your steps
Memory stained by stench of decay
The reflection you see
Is the haven of your despair
The lie you conceive
To fullfill
Struggling, Evoking, exhuming what's dead
Glorious Statue of buried parts
Never was, never will - just creation of rats
Following false prophets and ghosts
The reflection you see
Is the haven of your despair
The lie you conceive
To fullfill yourself
Rot, all left is rot
It was killed by the treachery of a backstab
Cold, molded by the cold
Distance widens as fast as the void grows
Strife, worn out by strife
Calm despair born from violent silence
Hatred, shaped by the hatred
Of what's ahead, and of yourself