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

 

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