Swollen thorns clawing the melancholy night from tired storms Dark shadows embrace the whisper for the ashes in the arts of desire lost in the silence of her mourning How many lustrum can contemplate the path of sorrow the cold wind crawl the thick mist of crisp yarn and her woe at the pallium of the night snatch the dim poems dispersed as Hinnom's delirium the dying pain of arid eyes wrap the dainty promise caven in the crestfalien tono of autumnal foliage. ¡Oh! Asperous taciturn wind disseminated into the ignorant drawsiness of the lividness withered. The vividness of delicate umbelliferae scalter the bitter gospel on ebony cup for the grief meadows. Thirsty orchids drinking the fertility of the seed and the oath at the cypress drapes the spirit of fruit bud to mirtle and the seed shall be the groan grieved like the pestum's roses in the dark yearning.