The Shame and the Spectre - Foscor

In my last days, I feel the sense of life

Although I would reach remorse

I’m sure, I could not ever see the lost

Only writing these few words

I think my soul would flow as yours

The rain never felt as dense and warm

To make me decide to leave this world

So anguished but cold, I hear at last her voice

So help me disappear, from this deep senseless hole

Whitish forms, appearing across the clock

Beyond the rooms I found as safety folds

Shikly sytaigh the steps to upper floors

Deep inside my murders knock so loud

The suicide of those I meet and loved

At least I start the eerie path of blood

The spectre rise my shame

As moving old pictures of death

Myself grey landscape fell

As soon as beauty was slain

By greed, by pain… With chains

I descend… Again!!!

In a comfortable darkness

The whitish breath of end

Make it sure to kill myself

It seems to be so far when I forgot

The hours I stand apart of those

By greed!!!

By pain!!!

I descend… Again!!!