When I go, lilies may lost its fragrance and sky will be blue no more. Under the shadow of abysmal desire my soul will rest, unhaunted.
I may no more carry the crown of sovereign King, shepherd of Clockwork. I may no more came in the night by the light of the moon to tell your life to living.
It is a different path I will wander upon or lost into,
or perhaps only rest till winter arrives. I may no more travel on moonlight roads without glory or lady to serve. I may no more passing through valleys, misunderstood through villages, ridiculed in towns, scorned in cities.
Bring the goblets my fate,
Platters and garlands my desire,
Behold all you ressentiment and its servants, Bring them for the feast which departing life will host!
Bring them and come dressed in black, with your heads crowned in myrtle
Amid the muffled racket of Cymbals and drums, Darkness acclaims you emperor!
