Pilgrim's chant

I found me lost in a crowd of zombies,

Searching the perfume of an empty rose,

I following their gloomy steps, their sadness.

I try to wake them all, but it’s useless,

But I never give up. I’m still aware of dawn,

Aware of  the gently rain, the liquid goddess,

The tenderness of a fugitive sight.

Pretending that life is something more,

No matter the furious waves of winter,

The infernal sun of summer. I’m glad to be

Dreaming in a everlasting autumn, with wings of

Madness on my shoulders, with a perfect smile

Of a corpse. Wandering as a pilgrim in a foreign

graveyard.