13 October 2012
A flash of electric, a rush of cold air, A snowflake inferno chills my body, bare, A frigid expulsion of crystalline dread, Bites deep in the aura of lustrous dead.
A wake of blue nova, caressing the sky, Ensuring the toxic tongue sticks to its lie, Depression, collapsing, relapsing the scene, A reverie of the soul, bloodied ravine.
The fatal acrylic of necromage rite, Engulfing the pentacle on this cold night, A canvas of blue, with the blue painted black, And a pale confession, the reaper's on track.
Night • Opuss № I