Frantically searching in my wells of silence.
The torturous hours are savagely creeping.
In my solitude the storms echo loudly.
Trapped in sheer crimson anger.
Rage --- against black dreams that lay in darkness.
Oh reaper!
Come to my masquerade.
Do not come in disguise with your silent footsteps.
Reaching with your golden touch.
Have you come to pull me from the wreckage?
It is your mask --- I wear.

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