Cradled by the sweet murmurs of the dead...
Where the lifeline of salvation drips delicately red

Suicide, a longing for the grave, the path of the escapee
A definition for this wondrous word, the ignorant mind could never see

Sweet winds of death keep them warm, the children of a ruptured dream
With eyes of innocent tears, wet and strong to look beyond what things merely seem

Mighty guardian, raise thy reaper, grant to them the treasures of an early grave
Enchant them with our truth, that from our dark fate not even God could save

Let loose the wonders of oblivion, beyond a curtain even to death unseen
Spiritual annihilation, horrible destiny camouflaged peaceful and serene

Fall beyond this pain, to her silken embrace...
Our goddess pale and wondrous, a fleshless beauty in shredded lace

A multitude of singularity, living ghosts prowling the night
Vanquish thy darkness, and make love to the light

Delight them with the validity of our word, let this certainty rob them of breath
That an end to life is...The Death of Death...