Dead, pale my mortal dream
To wither under a veil of morose
Softly dying this doubtful morn

Forever wrapped in cold still earth
Such desolation of spirit

Paradise grows cold
Agonies so soft

I embrace degradation
Whispers of misery
Emotions torn from an unscathed soul

Glue my anguish
With mournful psyche
And pass into easefull death

Paradise