A wraith to sate, I'm bound by fate,
communion time draws near.
One can't expunge with every lunge,
that which remains unclear.

This torch I bear was lit in tear
each totem speaks remorse.
They sear a soul, though dank and cold,
may be their albatross.

Feared god of night, with all your might,
I shall not walk alone.
Push dark aside, light be my bride,
'til I am called back home.

Blank eyes of dread, in scrolls it's read,
though eerie are thy squalls ;
Words worn to script shall be your crypt,
beneath these Haggard Halls.