|
The grip no longer holds |
|
When passion abandons |
|
The bonds no longer clutch |
|
And the rope screams you name |
|
A path of daggers |
|
But where to step |
|
A hallway of illusions |
|
Of what was |
|
Duty heavy as a mountain |
|
The battle draws near |
|
Your shoulders carry many |
|
Still death seems remarkably void |
|
You wonder fate in lack of faith |
|
What you consider luck, may be |
|
God's will |
|
A wanderer of the light will never die |
|
Before God gives his approval |
|
A path of daggers... |
|
The crown |
|
I carry as an aura above me |
|
Is the proof of who my saviour truly is |
|
My mute cries overheard |
|
My blindness is seen |
|
My tears washed away |
|
My feebleness became my strength |
|
Duty heavy as a mountain |
|
The battle draws hear |
|
Your shoulders carry many |
|
Still death seems remarkably void |
|
You wonder fate in lack of faith what you consider luck, may be |
|
Gods wil A wanderer of the light will never die |
|
Before God gives his approval |
|
A path of daggers... |
|
When love is lost, only hate will remain |