A dying soul,
Waiting to be heard.
Standing on the edge of the world,
Devouring itself.
Sleepless nights,
Spent in your wait, until it was late.
Inevitable touch,
Drenched in blood.
A bright area,
Produced by a body coming between eternal darkness.
A beautifully woven song,
Ruined by the clock's tong.
Rings of mid-night,
Circling my day-light.