yeatsgrave

"Damn me Father, for I must sin..."

Four centuries of this damned immortality
Yet I did not ask to be made. Why?
I will never again feel your sun upon my face
Or the comfort of a grave
I am not alive and I am not dead
This is Hell on Earth

How can I possibly explain this eternal youth?
When I can do nothing, but sit by
As my loves grow old and wither
And with each of them, take a fragment of my heart
And prolong this endless winter
It is October's perpetual agony
It is the shadow realm
With every victim I pray for my own death
And as much as I love the night
I curse the moon's eerie glow
This bloodlust that drags me to forever
The toxic rays of dawn that condemn me to limbo
I am forced to dwell in grey Autumnal twilight
I am suspended in dusk