Pale Hell

Where there's only warmth in wrath
exists an eternal tremor
Where I wish to be frozen in this helid hell
Here my sight is blind by the impotence of white light
Here my frosted hands relate my ache
I desire the skin turning blue
and my eyes breaking like crystall spheres
then I would not feel the yearn of sunshine
Neither a beating's heart embrace
My dying breath drags me to a pray for the Dark one
For him to take me into his fire to melt my suffering
If  just this ice could crystallize the pity,
so it could be broken by the fury of the winds
of this white Hell
Long is the torture
Long is the waiting
Sordid my prayer
Sordid is my perdition