Goosebumps and shivers and dry lips, my wind – Goodbye.
Sheltered by mountains of ice, I die. I die. I die.
Oh dear old darkness!
.
He whispers in the dead of night and I cling to a dead breath
but it’s gone
Stupid eyes can’t hold dying shadows anymore.
.
Sink your teeth in hot flesh heavy until his fire dies
and the night unwraps it deadly grasp of your dying eyes.
.
.
.