..Lovecraft mourning... my eyes in your darkness my darkness in your eyes so simple it is as a terrible sight of an omenous storm that comes from the north and all that nightmares mourning in your door my eyes in your skin my skin in your eyes is not of this world what you are waiting for as close as it is as a ravenous song as the King Lear that we read in the hall my hearth in your hands your hands in my hearth do you feel something? just sound up-the-stairs but is not myself, it is not you who belongs to there so we better be cautious with the unattainable fear