My Dying Bride
The Manuscript
Within the words lies something coldA glow of light from one so oldEvery page calling my nameSymbols excuse me of all blameYour presence here astonishes meThe colossal things that you will readJust breathe my name to set me freeYour soul alive will be my feeAnd one by one the numbered fallMy duty is its own rewardBetter do ill than suffer itAlarming fingers of my wristMy name is dark and my want will claim theeThe command to weep has now been givenThis is how the words are freedAnd the lashing whip of utter greedA ruined soul and empty manA lost shaow so old and damnedAn awful martyrdom, so holy and feebleA winter face, lonely eyesA husk containing bitter liesTo sleep now, buried awayTo be read again, to be obeyed
From Letras Mania