the moor

• (bkz: opeth) (bkz: still life) (bkz: sözlerini de yazayım tam olsun)
  
  the sigh of summer upon my return
  fifteen alike since i was here
  bathed in deep fog, blurring my trail
  snuffing the first morning rays
  
  weary from what might have been ages
  still calm with my mind at peace
  would i prosper or fall, drain the past
  the lapse of the moment took it's turn
  
  i was foul and tainted, devoid of faith
  wearing my death-mask at birth
  the hands of god, decrepit and thin
  cold caress and then nothing
  i was taken away from my plight
  a treason bestowed to the crowd
  branded a jonah with fevered blood
  ungodly freak, defiler
  
  pale touch, writhing in the embers
  damp mud burning in my eyes
  all the faces turned away
  and all would sneer at my demise
  
  outcast with dogmas forged below
  seared and beaten, banished from where i was born
  no mercy would help me on my way
  in the pouring rain nothing is the same
  
  vows in ashes
  i pledge myself to no-one
  seethed and spiteful
  all shudder at the call of my name
  if you'll bear with me
  you'll fear of me
  
  there is no forgiveness in these eyes
  for any of you but one
  dispel the mist for now
  melinda is the reason why i've come
  
  she is waterdrops over the pyre
  a thistle in my hands
  stained and torn, aged and brown
  virtous shell with kindred innocense
  
  i awoke from the miasma
  passing swiftly through the moor
  this is here, waters stir
  and in the distance all that was lost
  if you'll bear with me
  you'll fear of me
  you'd never leave me to
  a fate with you