O prison cell, surrounding me with bars like burnished spears,
In this silent tomb the echoes of my life are all I hear.
The key was buried long ago, in the world somewhere outside,
And the petals white have ceased to fall, ever since the day I died.
I would rather feel, once more, the sunlight's warm embrace
Than have the world's great nations fall and bow before my face.
The light lies dead upon the ground, and on my marble lips
I feel nothing but the frosty touch of silver twilight's kiss.
O lifeless landscape, cold and grey as winter's icy hands,
My soul has wandered far away to walk in empty lands.
Forever my voice is silent, since I drew my final breath;
Forever to sleep on this bed of stone in the dreamless sleep of death.
