Foreboding clouds, shivering above Echoes of yore slow bleeding thine soul Decaying perception, inward and above I abide in torture, watching eons flow Still tormented by the shards of truth My shadow's falling through thy dreams As your slumber had my spirit sealed Yet I fear not void, but the thought of it As I dream of doom, writing at your grave We are Cruish-Nir, even though I'm last Our time is gone, within flames of dust On forsaken ground, I fear not of death Bygone will be a writer's tear of lead The darkest shade of a weeping word Unspoken truth engraves your tomb When lovers mourn the loss of Platon As I cease to dream, on the sorrow's edge Will I give to Charon, my will to create Rotten seems the flower, blooming out of sins I may be the last, but we're Cruish-Nir