Wend

The cold wrestles me from sleep I know it must be winter, for I dream Images of the form that left me In shadows left to die How long have I slumbered? I know I must be old, for, all unseen My tomb is covered in the dust of ages No light can find its comfort here I feel the life draining from me I know I must be dying, for all my soul Death's hand draws near to me I know I must be dying, in this earth-bound grave I shall come for you, arch-deceiver The dominion of Christ will fall