My God have mercy upon me in this Hour of Death

I pray for thee to take my life instead of the one I so dearly love

Her face is pale like the ivory of the distant realms

And as I hold her hand in mine, I clearly feel it's turning cold

Like marble or snow



Remembering the days of joy, not so long ago

Those memories just increase grief as I watch the withering of beauty

How can it be that tomorrow she's not here and I remain

There has to be some kind of way we can be together again

Together again



As she fades away

Like statue made of clay



All I wish is to be in grave with her

Slowly transforming back into dirt

Deep under the sacred ground

Noone will be able to part us now