Weep, my beloved,
for I am no more.
My fate has been cornered;
I’m about to let go
of this sweet life I lived,
and my soul is no more.
I’ll return to the darkness
that hath borne me before.
Before morning can come
it will be too late—
my will hath succumbed,
it does no good to wait.
My soul is as black now
as the night that hath borne me.
You cringe as you think now
of what I am becoming.
I will suffer alone,
but make no mistake:
this dark will not still me—
revenge I must take.
In silence I plot now
the depth of your grave.
And then—just like me—
In darkness you’ll stay.
(It’s the price you must pay.)
