Rest, rest now beneath my feet.
Take comfort in your scarce heat.
The grey cross erected in your name.
Blackens now, and erodes away
Beneath this stinging rain.

Oh icy claw that grips your heart,
I long for my body torn apart.
Black crow, perched in tree,
For this I beseech thee.
I am no stranger to this bloodless air.

I, in shrillness, would scream
As my lungs did rip and tear.
I stand above your sodden grave,
And shall no longer by life enslaved.
Death, death do conspire;

Transform my black, funeral heart
And wilting sadist mind into my pyre.