Mist will become my lair

...Forest will become my grave

Tortured soul
Will join with rotten smell
In midnight growl
Black bog becomes black Hell

Adored trees
As ugly bodies of pale slaves (of moon)
Will put me in deep pit of stakes

It’s better to rot in bog
I make my way through silver fog
One way, and walls are high
Like silver stake night tears my heart

...I try to flit away
I smell my preys and taste decay
Whenever moon dances round
I start my path for one more
Another night unbound!

(Untie my legs and open cage -
I slip away like shade imprint
Wild growling manifests my rage
In walls of labyrinth)

No one night, no one day,
I have never seen red moon and stars
Hanging in darkness like blade of guillotine

Stormy wind will cut my ears and pull my wool
And heated thorns will bite my shaking legs
Green loops of hedera will steal my breath
And vast forest will become my grave

(Untie my jaws and open cage -
By drops of blood you'll find me there
Knee before my broken legs
While soul of mine explores new lair)

In the soft bed of bog I’ll fall into sleep
I will cover my face with rotten-tasty leaves
I will not run, not anymore
No one else will find me …for more

And I’ll take rest

Вдохновлено творчеством Cradle of Filth,
10/01/2010, rewritten 02/02/2023