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My hope it is fragile, and it fades with the setting sun.
For when night arrives with it's cool air
And clouds are lined with deep silver I sleep.

When I sleep I fall into black,
To rusted fans and dirty walls, cracked and torn
As ancient as a dragon's howl.

Dark castles rise and creak, moan and move, splintered and torn.
The trees whisper as the restless sighing wind braves through their shadowed leaves.

Now I see it all-a blazing blur,
The claret moon above this view
As the shadows grind through-
Out the night haunting my eyes I
Couldn't move. . .

Blacker still the night swells out as Nyx spits forth ink from her great mouth.
Scream hit my ears their drowning cries, the endless ocean brimming wide
Opening lies for my ears to listen, all else dies with the whispering cries.

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