The morning ash is hither
Vanished is the haze of dreams
Barely thirteen hours left
To erode this soul's disease
A jaded umbra beaten and weak
Its mortal shell ready to cave in
Blinded as the blinds go up
To let the flooding begin
Seems forever since the very last time this ageing ghost 
was known to glide cuffed and blinded by demons so vile, 
whoever could have thought it to rise in this grey 
morning?
Through bewildered eyes, the flame
Begins to flicker as the shades start crawling in
Their morbid gala sets the scene
To tap into the true force of the abyss
In this ashen morning
This day, awaken
Tear down the wall, edge the blades
Summon the banished soul and gaze
Inside, rip out its seething cancer
Sever this morbid rot from the inner eye
Be alive