It is night
And storms continually roar
In the land of dreams
Like long lost melodies
Like the butterfly that clings,
A little gift from Mourning Land
Blank misgivings of a creature
Moving about in worlds not realized.

It is night
And Time is flowing
All things are moving to a day
Of gloom
Clad in robes of sorrow
Unstoppable
Unavoidable.

A rapid ghastly river of Woe
Moving through the pallid door
Discordant melodies mixed
With ethereal dances
Time is ever flowing
And the illness called "Living"
is conquered at last.