In a world of chaotic and systematic atmosphere,
We find ourselves lost, flying away without a clue.
Immortals we dream, is it mere fantasy or possible reality?
Between torn and yellowed papers, memories fade, all gone.
Descendants of an ancient generation, we stand,
O greatest Lilith and Lucifer, bearers of the bloody truth,
Our wings once gilded with gold, now tarnished and rusted,
Longing to soar through the heavens as we once did.
Cruel and pathetic mankind, they chase us relentlessly,
The afterimage of our existence haunting their fears.
Hands tied, we resist, but the grasp of fate is unyielding,
Condemned to wander in the shadows, forever unknown.
We were born to die, whispers the melancholic wind,
For even immortals face the inevitability of an end.
In the depths of our gothic souls, emotions intertwine,
Longing for a fleeting moment of respite, a touch of divine.
Amidst the crumbling ruins and eternal night,
We seek solace in the darkness, where secrets reside.
The weight of ages rests upon our immortal shoulders,
As we yearn for release from this never-ending slumber.
In the realm of forgotten dreams and sorrowful wails,
The echoes of past glory haunt our souls like ghosts.
Yet, we find beauty in the tragedy, the bittersweet embrace,
For in our eternal existence, emotions cascade like tears.
In the dance of shadows and moonlit despair,
We embrace the gothic tapestry of our immortal tale.
Haunted by the echoes of forgotten time,
We stand as witnesses to the timeless yet fleeting rhyme.
