cut my roots as I walk through the garden of despair collect my brightest dreams, and dull the spell inside with care dividing boundaries of life and death, I bring to you the wicked the demented, the bleeding hearts, the tortured souls let us not be vague with our sacrifices, I stand before you with tears of joy tears of sadness, drain the horror from the beautiful fountain I have faced the poison of the shadows and blessed the fear with graceful understanding let their valley's be green, in the mental dominion, I guard the thoughts of the fallen angel, the morning star, the light bearer, and filtered the sins of your disciples for the only sins were dressed in evil gowns, covering the truth of the innocent I plead guilty for the sake of humanity, I am the reason you were put to death
the days are growing cold, our hearts are buried in the snow...
as summer dies, the leaves begin to fall like tears on the face of an empty person memories entering minds of a time filled with understanding and less complication a night reminiscent of happier times consumes the earth as the wind blows taking away the pain we feel in the air, and now the days grow cold like the relationships we once had, limited sunshine becomes more consistent as the chill of winters introduction sets its stage upon our dying feelings, soon, our land is covered in snow masking the flowers we planted like the way anger and hurt masks love, these are seasons similar to the cycle of ones soul, as happiness dies, annoyance and bitterness sets in, soon the gloominess of depression digs its fangs into your heart, sometimes it lets go and the happiness is allowed to return only to be taken away yet again the cycle of life, the cycle of pain, the reality of a painful conclusion
the days are growing cold, our hearts are buried in the snow...