I the Death
Grave is not the home where I breathe the hope
The desires I dream, on thy dreams
I gleam,
To make so merry on thy last cold scream.
Once the times fade you shall no longer lope;
Nor canst pray the Lord of trust while breathing,
Thy souls would aware once you stop dreaming
Then I welcome thee!
One can sense me when their lives are on wane
The raptures I steal, and thy grieves I feel,
And torment comes albeit thou can’t conceal
Ha, from curse I came and fear is my name!
Get thy God of holy while you’re praying;
He solely counts thy clock from suffering
Hence I welcome thee!
Hell is not the room where the flowers bloom
I put you on stake, thy pleasures I take,
Or else be profaned for the Satan’s sake
So I am the kin of despair and gloom!
Ay, besides I make thy spites grow healing
And I’m in all those who start believing
And I welcome thee!
--anurag
