Lurid shadows seek from within.
It waits for blithe to end.
Painted among cadaverous clouds;
whispering hopes are lost but never found.
Across the skies of vague;
no soul nor angel was saved.
In depths behind cold locked doors;
Under seals of the esoteric floors.
Could there be a savior nigh?
Or forever ashes shall the angels cry?
Unprotected by a weary light;
in the opaque bitter black a small drop shall be find.
Just one drop to severe through the worst;
just one drop to lift the desolate one's curse.
To relieve the wounds and revive those who reversed their birth.
Across the skies of gray and vague;
maybe not all have died without a name.
Across the skies of gray and vague;
maybe hope shall seek one soul to save.