Orchid. (V) "The Opeth Diaries."

Sleep breaks.
I rise from the mists of the dream…
October striking midnight with the impending dark.
To lead me to such an awakening…
On such a dawning hour…
Is there something that he wants me to see?
Or are they just mares, mares of the rue morn?
How can I know?
How must I find my spirit’s memorandum?
When the Wind caress blows colder…
And when the Winter chill grows nearer…
The drops all fall hard…
As the ground cools down…
And trees hide,
And beasts still call,
And Darkness falls,
Lonely on me…
There is someone,
Or something,
Resembling…
A shadow.