2 acessos
Dead, pale my mortal dream
To wither under a veil of morose
Softly dying this doubtful morn
Forever wrapped in cold still earth
Such desolation of spirit
Paradise grows cold
Agonies so soft
I embrace degradation
Whispers of misery
Emotions torn from an unscathed soul
Glue my anguish
With mournful psyche
And pass into easefull death
Paradise