Stowaway - Decembre Noir

Gently I taste suicide air

Within the hourglass of despair

Angry grains push me down

In deep waves of sand I drown

I crawl upon a lonesome line

In a fragile world that never was mine

I am the worm and search for food in sorrow’s moor

My heart is a cocoon around a depressive core

Filthy is the entrance of eternity

Salt drops run from my milky face freely

This life builds an ocean of thorns and dismay

With the ruthlessness of this gruesome day

I am embedded by the rain robe of an outstretched night

In void’s mouth that shall swallow up my last pride

Underneath this pathetic sky that I despise

I know this hard mountain will come to a rise

Within a few seconds I breathe the earth’s decay

Cold uncertainty surrounds that chosen pathway

I bury heart’s fragments with a great desperation

Since I am the jaded icon of my self-domination

Slowly I observe the human feelings rot

Sometimes I sink in this ascending flood

When my spirit for eternal freedom cries

Then hope remains in these ancient eyes

I suffer with a silent cry — By the final day that I deny

And the small life shall drown torn asunder — I stand alone with the pain that

is my hunter

I can’t wait for death’s embrace — I will stain me with disgrace

And I fall down to my knees and pray

To the sleepless Gods that turn away

Inside this realm I cannot be the king

Because I fill innocent hands with sin

I transform my blade’s almighty force

To pure pandemonium and unbridled claws

The icy steel kisses the skin and veins of me

In vertigo’s drunkenness I set all bother free

The strings tear apart — Stillness is the grand award