A harsh three-headed birth is flush mounted with the languid air
Nyx let fall a vicious broadside
Behold this mayhem, sister!
The death throes are the black rye bread for tonight
At the bend in the path of black hedges
Clotho has spun a charming web
A harsh three-headed birth is flush mounted with the languid air
Nyx let fall a vicious broadside
Behold this mayhem, sister!
The death throes are the black rye bread for tonight
While some moires of guilt moon slash the helms of the Parcae
An ethylic and lachrymal marsh swamps Lachésis and her decree
(one page full of crochets etched on a score of bitter taste)
To give up the ghost to the Ghost of fear, near to cut
This ghost hung by a thread, Atropos!
And who holds now the flourished hand... above this thread?
A child song haunts the air, the swan song blooms on my doom
Exhaling the sensuous perfumes of death
The inflow of scents sustains the morbidness
Of a marmoreal neck into a swan singing
To give up the ghost to the Ghost of fear, near to cut
This ghost hung by a thread, Atropos!
And who holds now the flourished hand... above this thread?
Nyx let fall a vicious broadside
Behold this mayhem, sister!
The death throes are the black rye bread for tonight
At the bend in the path of black hedges
Clotho has spun a charming web
A harsh three-headed birth is flush mounted with the languid air
Nyx let fall a vicious broadside
Behold this mayhem, sister!
The death throes are the black rye bread for tonight
While some moires of guilt moon slash the helms of the Parcae
An ethylic and lachrymal marsh swamps Lachésis and her decree
(one page full of crochets etched on a score of bitter taste)
To give up the ghost to the Ghost of fear, near to cut
This ghost hung by a thread, Atropos!
And who holds now the flourished hand... above this thread?
A child song haunts the air, the swan song blooms on my doom
Exhaling the sensuous perfumes of death
The inflow of scents sustains the morbidness
Of a marmoreal neck into a swan singing
To give up the ghost to the Ghost of fear, near to cut
This ghost hung by a thread, Atropos!
And who holds now the flourished hand... above this thread?