...Time stops.
The walls of reality shatter.
And from the ashes, like copse,
A dense, dark world blossoms, not of matter.
A feeling of mortality encompasses me,
Whispering in my ear my deeds and sins.
As the sky fades, I only hear "dance, little flea"
Deaths throws take over, I stumble like on strings.
The shadow shows their true face,
A dark void, full of only hungers fire.
No remorse or sorrow, as they watch me pace.
Only desire, with the most demonic ire.
I give into mortality's truth,
I stumble to my knees in defeat,
As the totem of death watches on without ruth.
And as I look afar, in a daze, I see myself rise to my feet.
The walls of reality move against the clocks,
Time stops...
