When Gift Becomes Damnation White Ward

Crunch of stained-glass windows
Under bare feet
Luminescent anguish
Of everyday retreat
Consubstantiality
Of discrepant wills
Breakes against mortality
Forces me to knees
Punishment of being old
Till the end of time
Everlasting pain and cold
Rational decline

Here I stand, obsessed old man
Blinded, on the very brink
Downpour is whipping me
With indelible ink

My gift became damnation
My incarceration
I'm stuck here for the ages
I'm doomed to be old man

Sentinеls on guard of death
Cannot let me in
I'm dеprived of their excuse
I've invented a new sin