Violins mourn for the dead...

I can hear her sobbing in the quiet dark,
I can feel the faint beat of her heart...

A shadow fell upon my door
And feathers flew amid the dark...

They Called Her "Darkness"
By My Decadent...

The Calmity of Silence
By My Decadent...

Roses with their poisioned thorns
Hanged by the satyr's horns...

The night is dark and winds blow cold,
The pale moon is shining...

Between walls of darkness it lays,
Never listened to a word it says...

Weakened pounding... fading to silence
Peeling walls of flesh barely stand...

Blood Canticle
By My Decadent...

The blackness of night folded around her weak body...
Loneliness making her feel like nobody...

Midwintertears
It was a cold winter, so cold even snowflakes...