Sightless stalker, diminished blade I know not why I hunt. Lamed vagrant, tongueless beggar I know not why I cry. Writhing skin, moribund eyes I know not why I pine. Scabbed in frothy, leprous hives, I hide from a world that on radiance survives. My sorrow extends beyond the firmament… Ambition is arrogance; Atrophying is all we know of life. A grating through a diaphanous veil The gauzy years of sorrow. We rise upon those scintillating times, To assuage our lifelong loss. Weary mind, interminable grief I know not why I live. The sordid sun burns deeper still, A thick bubonic singe That sneers at my weary brain Like a severed hand. The lamentation of the guilt That breeds inside me Lives under the grasp of duress In its malformed claw. My sorrow extends beyond the firmament… Ambition is arrogance; Atrophying is all we know of life. Ragnarok is come My savior; my scorn. Under Mjollnir, Let me die. Ragnarok is come My savior; my scorn. Under Mjollnir, Let me die.