| What lies behind the etched stare?
|
| A longing for eyes not destined to me
|
| What of these steps like stone, echoes of my feet?
|
| Soul released, do I dare die of my grief?
|
| No promise to keep
|
| Sing myself to sleep
|
| Sing myself to sleep
|
| Winter beguiled, yet its essence remains
|
| Rust in lieu of flowers
|
| An autumn of stone and chains
|
| Devouring gasp, to be the air
|
| The sky agape to rain despair
|
| I felt it blanket me, cold cloth of dusk
|
| And when midnight struck my gilded tomb
|
| Envy of the moon
|
| I felt it blanket me, cold cloth of dusk
|
| And when midnight struck my gilded tomb
|
| Envy of the moon
|
| I held the dawn
|
| Dusk never escaping my hand
|
| Painful observer
|
| Embodying absence
|
| The wind, it seems so cruel at times
|
| The breath of noxious day
|
| A touch of diluvial night
|
| Soul released, do I dare die of my grief?
|
| No promise to keep
|
| Sing myself to sleep
|
| Sing myself to sleep
|
| I felt it blanket me, cold cloth of dusk
|
| And when midnight struck my gilded tomb
|
| Envy of the moon
|
| I felt it blanket me, cold cloth of dusk
|
| And when midnight struck my gilded tomb
|
| Envy of the moon |