letra de the one who sleeps - occultation
in the churchyard where he lay
lights a moonbeam on his face
no words spoken in the dark
aging widow knits and rocks
seeping from a well cold sun
spoons are bending one by one
graves forgotten far too soon
names are washed into the ruin
six of them
perched upon the tower
waiting for
bells of every hour
ringing for
one thousand years
watching as
the coffins disappear
all ways lead to the same room
galleries of the dead
awaiting ahead
with all doors open
through underground tunnels
his hands holding his head
erasing footsteps
drying all the holy water
using just its fingertips
shining there in a pitch black church
rose of the apocalypse
in the courtyard waits the he-rs-
adorning the ancestarl curse
thirty-seven signs of death
the one who sleeps won’t be at rest
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