There are no ears to hear these pleas
that spew forth from these lips o' mine.
Not even the wind blows to catch the
whispers I send forth, mine words fall
to the ground like frozen tears in winter.

This soul, the one I claim as mine own,
it withers slowly in decay. Into this place,
alone, I came. And now, alone, once
once more I shall leave.

Serenity surrounds this corporeal vessel,
or, at least an illusion there of. There
is no wind, no sun, no moon ... only this
trembling body whose blood runs cold.

Is there not one other soul out there, in
this vast void of nothingness to hear mine
tears fall in shards ... Do they not tinkle like
tiny bells as they shatter, for mine ears are
the only ones that hear this sound.

Tis deafening, this melancholic music these
tears that flow from mine eyes make. Like
small silver bells, little crystals tinkling upon
the ground.

There is no love here to soothe this never
ending pain. I suffer silently with no
compassion, alone in the night to wander
for eternity. This is the fate of mine soul.