Open the gates of the graveyard. Where corpses rest like layers. In glorious flying thunder comes the courier of death. Moor his black horses tail. Around my thin neck. Let me fly beneath his wings. I am dead. Hangmans noose is not a prophecy. Hangmans noose is the laughter of death. Life is abundant in fantasy. Giving birth to death. Ending ones secret life. Ending ones mortal existence. Have no fear. Heaven and Hell are here. Let my few hairs blow in the burning wind. Dont keep up ones appearance. Oldness and youth are just a game. Send a letter to the mortals saying as pleasant is the grave. Hangmans noose is not a prophecy. Hangmans noose is the laughter of death. Life is abundant in fantasy. Giving birth to death. Ending ones secret life. Ending ones mortal existence. Mortal reason to abandon this life. Full of horror at first sight. Nobody escapes from this deathlike fate. Till again I hear the wind through the gates. Nameless graves rest emptiness. Living beings dislike this vast sadness. Dramatic vision of the procession of the dead. Its rather sad we cant rise from the dead.
hangman, noose, ending, mortal, abundant