---

A strange mist covers the moor and
silence's calling my Muse; darkness
succeeds the pale light, the glen is
fallin' into the night. The flame of a
candle-end lights the shadows of my
mind; memories of my youth...
the ghastly glimpse of hell.
the jester's crying...
the jester's crying...
the Sun won't rise over those exotic
worlds, the Sun won't shine on those
times, the Sun won't brighten all my
darkened worlds.
the jester's crying
and the knight alone.
echoes of distant voices and old
unholy rimes... ruins of ancient
empires fallen aeons ago, the hall is
empty... the warriors have all gone;
phantoms of the past are
Torturing my mind.
"Oh my muse, don't leave my heart
tonight, be again my ispiration
and make the jester smile!"
Lost forever in the chasm of my soul,
a silent screamin' into my brain,
tormenting screaming of those
unfinished lines;
the jester's bleeding
and the listeners gone...

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