The Night is long, and hailing horrors
Around me it is putting coffin clad
Horrors are beating me with rods of Satanic conjurers
I can’t breathe, even sigh in these moments sad
The minstrelsy of larks has stopped
The untiring sea waves don’t see the shore
Seems moon and stars haven’t talked
But starts a new Saga of agony with magical lore
A lore of Heart, being cut with sawyer’s saw
Heart being bruised, and splitting constantly in flakes
No one is there to see this sharp paw
Where wounds of heart are at guillotine place
Burning, bruised heart wants to speak
Speak about, how it is undergoing tyranny
Tyranny that is infinite and captivates the heart with shriek
Appears so, that heart is locked in these moments infinitely
Spells and spells of magic are bound around
And around the heart if it is knocked
These spells are so silent nothing does sound
The Heart is fixed in the stony steeps and rocked
Can this heart may hope for the day shine
This blessed hope of Sun, may spray the ray
And inside this dark heart, ever sing the dancing swine
And gloom, and locked sadness will sway
But far from this dimly beating heart
The Eternal-Bugle loudly announces its voice
Voice that says, Hope is never here to start
"The Night” is everlasting and the Sun will never rise