Aloft in hues of sickly grey
Like poison smoke, it billows
Round the air above it stays
Draping o’er me like a willow

I close my eyes against the sight
But still they circle overhead
Teach me fear of lonely night
Drown the screams upon my bed

Yet now I stride amidst the black
That shrouds the eve and murmurs back
Would tell my fears to shake my soul
Too late for them – that doom grows cold

While still the chill may linger, grasp, and cling
The shadow falls short and my darkness sings