Each and every second of nightmares solely was the girl's fantasy, The watchful eye of Death [Thanatos] spurring thoughts, Reminiscences from days long gone, Stories never to be told, Visions of lives she would never come to live, Or an uncertain future of a world fastly approaching its doomsday. Spinning was the wheel of fate [Moira], History [Chronicle] written since times immemorial, One she could merely watch upon, Filling dreams, Visions of Death [Thanatos] numbing an exhausted mind, Reality slowly slipping away [crumbling], To a familiar [revolving] yet inimical realm.
What awaited her in the end remained unknown, The silver carriage having yet to come for her, Still, All she could hope for was respite, From an eternity filled with but suffering, Under the spell of [Thanathos], Revolving nightmares filling her mind, Crimson pools haunting her, Everlastingly.