Ghost Of Sorrow lyrics

Of her death-- as in my Casket; I feel the Sovereign seasons fly Raw upon the biding Earth, Dragging the Frame inside which I lie. My Rapture, soiled by loss, Like my form, defiled by Time. And Pain: Tears on reminding mold-- An Abyssal depth consumed by repine. While Buried in gloom, -- Though wood often drones, And filed feet drum false hope, For time holds no spade-- My mind still atrophies, As fleshy white worms Stem a musty life-worn plea-- The slow recession into shrouded vision. In prayer to Gods unsent, While crows caw my obsequies, The coffin-- like the heart-- is made for Interment, with Bereavement's Scorching, wooden dirge.