Luyện nghe bài hát IV (Interment)

I
I descend
I closed my eyes and still vistas rend

The waning sun... light so thing
Sickly, these shafts press
At a gruesome fog, an torpor
Stripping the air of pellucidity
Writhing chains of desolation reach
And beckons a shattered soul back darkness

As the soils part in
A riven aperture to a sundered spirit
Closing a withered fist
Around a of pale tissue

Weak - so weak
Cold - frozen to the
Encased by the frost of
I have nothing to give

Even my flesh naught
A cross-stitched tapestry of failings
vessel of spiritual exsanguination
Home to the dread-stare of listless eyes

sordid limb a tendril of pain
A beacon of suffering, a spite of
Aflame gangrenous agony
This hemisphere of decrepitude demands

me

Yearning for

I beg for the embrace of the
A final resting place - only by a henge of dead trees

The cathedral stands,
A memorial to all who walked within these shadows

by the toil of the lost
Who sink without markings into the fathomless