IRC-Galleria

Midsummer I wave
A 'V' of black swans
On with hope to the grave

And through red September
When skies fire-paved
I begged you appear
Like a thorn for the holy ones

Cold was my soul
Untold was the pain
I faced, when you left me
A rose in the rain

So I swore to the razor
That never, enchained
Would your dark nails of faith
Be pushed through my veins again

Bared on your tomb
I am a prayer for your loneliness
And would you ever soon
Come above unto me?

For once upon a time
From the binds of your loneliness
I could always find
The right slot for your sacred key