Masquerade

The world is beaming closer i dont know how to pretend
Holy night is getting darker when the shadow is a pain
And the time is walking narrow on a dark pastoral lane
Waking all the Satans to rescue the Tintern Abbey
Dressing up and masquerading himself he steps forward on a wrong note 12 past'night Canterbury station he stands tall with this long coat Higher and higher,his thoughts are flying higher
I did see,the stain on the floor
It was real,like a stream of current floating with my thoughts
I can steal,away from your spear
Which was causing a scar,like stray bullet piercing through my brain
When it was dawn,i could see him getting up from his room
Never really thought that this world would be an ironic play
The murder of the Tintern Abbey was on the limelight
He knew himself but he knew not,that we are all masquerades
Yes are we?O we are!
Hidden behind is a devil,with its sharpened tooth Cemetries run away to give shelter to their graves
He preferred to use the one with the best grip
The knife of human emotions,piercing through our brain
I could still feel the cry of the woman in her teens, Chased miles panting but the man with his masquerade was far far away...

In some distant land is his feet...
Where lay the cryptic writings!