On this night of a thousand dreams... 13.5.08 |
...A nightmarish misfortune seems to triumph.
It's dark here--
but I never could see anyway.
The lock to this coffin is stuck fast;
the key was tossed aside long ago.
I'll sleep myself away in here.
And when I wake up,
four hundred years from now,
maybe dark will have become
a symbol for hope.
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This is a dagger I see before me,
the handle turned away.
Oh, who made me
this crimson fountain?
I look up and see
my envious reflection.
He is garbed in scarlet armour;
he is proud of his sacrifice.