Moment of Weakness !

As the Night grows old,
A corpse rots in bitter cold,
But the stars are wide awake,
Above the cursed lake,
 
Still! There I stand,
With hand in hand,
It’s about time to choose,
Who I want to lose,
 
Oh! Sweet haunting past,
Beloved mine, whom I lost,
Or the future thee,
Oh! Bitter glaring thee,
 
Darkness that’s glowing inside,
Light that’s brought by the tide,
The decision can’t alone be mine,
While the chalice is still full of wine,
 
The corpse is too gentle,
With a touch, so parental,
I dare not refuse,
With a lot to lose,
I miss the ruse,
The songs, the blues,
 
The stars are awake,
And night grows old,
Let’s go take our last howl at the moon,
The corpses may not meet again so soon!