Enter the fog draped Silva, ye sanguine flames of dusk   Carry me forth through the scent of dying flowers   Vain are the words that this cordial silence recites   When grief tinctured thoughts enshroud my voiceless sighs      Incline furtively into me, with no warmness of sympathy   'Tis not despise nor fear, what for the gloomy depths I foster   Where my sanity parched and seer shall weep   All defaced by soul scars incised so deep      In yearning suppressed, where the art of vanishing lurks   Reveries are blissful only when unearthed   For dustless my frail wings are still   Slashed by barbed wire arms   That once held me so dear      Of dolorous dreams, ridden with sickness internal, I feed   Grimly has the emotional volcano been smothered   While remembrances beseech, and the illusions depart   Wouldst thou hear the ever haunting rhymes   From the stab wound in my heart?      Mine is not the triumph over hostile ranks around me   But the formidable grasp of the all-devouring void inside   Deliver me from its claws tremendous   Cut me open forthwith   Release me, release me      Through the whirlwind of visions nondescript, I crawl   As I kiss the freezing lips of solitude   Onward to the cold hypnotic aurora   Of towers exalted by crystallized distress