Thirteenth Hour

Trapped in an interlude

Lulled between slumber and eternity

She sings her siren song

In her secret voice

The ebb and flow of sorrow

The terror of endless morrows

The ghostly whispers reverberate

in haunted human chambers:

“Wait for me in your secret heart.”

“Wait for me at the secret hour.”

The ebb and flow of sorrow

The terror of endless morrows

They meet at the thirteenth hour

Mortal and Immortal

And wish for another death

To entice, to devour

The ebb and flow of sorrow

The bliss of endless morrows

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