(Verse 1)
In the quiet eve of a forgotten past,
Stands alone beneath the dark cosmic vast.
Where the reaper's struggles lie still,
And hidden presence lurks with a Mad Hatter's will.

A dark knight cloaked in morbid fear,
Peers through nebulous tears, crystal-clear.
Oh, the great pumpkin raised on high,
Chants hypnotic spells under lunar sky.

(Chorus)
Whispers of plight weave a tangled thread,
In macabre realms where our souls are led,
Words forged as hues, conspiring sly,
In introspective prisons, yearnings die.

(Verse 2)
In midnight pools, dreams come alive,
From fractured canvas, emotions strive.
Flowers kiss the sunset's skies,
With raven-plumes, mysteries arise.

The painter's hand strokes, numb they fall,
Mockery dances, a whispered call.
Within balmy blooms, asylum he sought,
Forging worlds unseen in sunlit thought.

(Chorus)
Whispers of plight weave a tangled thread,
In macabre realms where our souls are led,
Words forged as hues, conspiring sly,
In introspective prisons, yearnings die.

(Bridge)
Ethereal spectrums painted bright,
Passions no longer hidden in night.
Dead men tethered in a hollow garden crawl,
Synesthetic band, their echoes enthrall.

(Verse 3)
Weaving discordance through dreams we find,
The moon's whispers embrace, unbind.
Shimmers blue in a gentle fusion,
Luminous dreams create illusions.

Stray melodies in patterns caught,
Crimson ripe, skies red wrought.
Lost in darkness, souls endure,
Seeking solace, a pain obscure.

(Chorus)
Whispers of plight weave a tangled thread,
In macabre realms where our souls are led,
Words forged as hues, conspiring sly,
In introspective prisons, yearnings die.

(Outro)
As the verses weave a tale complete,
The swansong's rhythm finds its beat.
In this tapestry of dreams and despair,
A song of darkness and light, we share.

Through the tangled web, the meanings clear,
In the chaos, a story appears.
The journey ends, yet it begins anew,
In the quiet eve, we find what's true.
© stoicescape