spectres

rushing

through the night, 

a shivering muttered

to all anguish souls

in a tempted revival

on another 

disillusioned rush

dark riders walk

in their shapeless might 

through out spite

consummating all desires

written 

in the predestined choirs

our time rushes by

as spectres

through a livid nightmare

(in a glare within)

all is awake here 

now

for a new desire's

 due, 

drought of your 

thoughts, 

drought of your 

love

within, 

the pace of death

breaths

marking its footsteps 

of fire 

through the snow

whilst 

the boundless feast

lasts

(you still hold an hourglass 

in your hands)

most cherish 

dreams

where asleep 

in guilt, 

and wearied 

of all their 

contempt

humankind

was never kind

always

unreliable

in their trust

no destiny 

in grief

will perceive

all the strength 

coming

out of your limbs,

a tunnel 

where all fear dims

(drained 

from the raging pits of hell)