I felt my heart being ripped
For thy inevitability grumbled my heart.
Thy gracious pains and sorrows
Apocalypsed my morale continuity
For thy frustrations and confusion
Takes me far to the unknown land beyond.
Cemetery is lonely
Graves full of bones that do not make sound.
The heart moving through a tunnel
In it darkness, darkness, darkness.
Sometimes I see alone
Coffins under sail
Embarking with the pale, with women that have dead hair,
With bakers who are as white as angels.
Death goes through the world dressed as a broom
Lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies, death is inside the broom,
The broom is the tongue of death looking for corpses
With the needle of death looking for thread.
Oh Master death, I hail thee!