As the moon argues with clouds
In winter’s tormented sky
A frail life lingers in the shadows
Waiting for deaths hello
To glide over the river of Styx
On the spirit ofhis funeral swan.
.
Through frosted windows,
A whispered orb appears
Hovering over mortal conscience
Mirrored in masked apparitions,
Around the candles flicker.
.
Voices fill the room
Calling the cemeteries dead
Calling witness to this passing
And In the Rocking chair a figure
.
Speaking, plumes of mist
Looking from a dark abyss
Where once there was a face,
The scratching of a Quill,
Writing, moving across a veil of grey,
Hiding the pages beneath
.
The quill of mankind
Is Here to empty your soul,
Though your heart will try and hide,
The truth,
The person that is you.
.
For in his wisdom
Creation gave you a conscience
And that will always betray
This person that was you
.
And another testimony is done
In the trial of Mankind
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