Lift your veil, encrusted with the brilliance of distant stars, woven into the fabric of a wounded night. It is a night sentenced to a crimson death, where dreams slip away like fading echoes in the snow-white darkness.
Let us play with the hole in my heart, let me feel the pain, as you stab me until my eyes bleed poison. The silence stands still, statuesque, around us, and each part of me is slain again and again in this haunting, snow-white night.
I paralyze every desire that dares linger near me, scorching the memories of the past in the thick fog of zero visibility. Your spell, once silver and shining, is now concealed, hidden away, as I stir your breath in the quiet of this snow-white night.
Dare you reveal the subtle mystery beneath your perfect guise, your Excellency’s mask of allure? Would you lock away love and hell, and keep them imprisoned behind iron bars in this frozen, snow-white night? Thunder, bowing before graves disguised in radiant beacon houses, reverberates through my soul. My trust—once steadfast—now idolizes every oath that lies broken and shattered. I run, desperate, down the path to the castle of spirits, but it is your image that haunts me, lingering in the shadows of this snow-white night.