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With Sickle, With Scythe

[We don't need to experience the reaper's touch first-hand in order to appreaciate its liberating qualities. In time we all must go through the Grand Gate which he reveals to us. It is up to our hearts to decide whether the bone-key to that gate will be turned with a steady hand or that which shakes in fear.]

With fingers of grey-white bone
thrice you knock on my chamber door
once for the mind, once for the soul
once for the flesh twitching on the floor

Cut the cords of time
with sickle and scythe

Under the wings of oblivion lies my haven
in their shadow alone can I find rest
from the book of being I have torn out the pages
spilled I have the ink of eternal existence

Many named you Mystery
daring not to part your veil
but I've stared you straight in the eye
and I've learnt your real names
Liberator, Redeemer, the Mask of Sooth
your call is the knell that frees us
from the Spell Untrue

A universe is crushed... Naught remains
the burden of the aeons past now I relinquish

vanishing human memories, so fast forgotten
like a handful of dirt thrown into the north wind

The white fortress of thoughts
the earth has claimed her own
and the red mansion of life
the abyss swallowed whole
but the ice-cold void of eternity's limitless vault
will treasure the triumphant spark
that furthers their fall

Three thorns as black as coal
you drove through my very core
one for the mind, one for the soul
one for the flesh lying on the floor

Cut the cords of time
with sickle and scythe

On a narrow path my feet have trodden
only the ghosts of frozen trees watching the steps
the high hills of time I have traversed
fighting my way through a world of shells
to lie down with the wolves