Slowly falling, slipping down, but i don't hit the ground

still my soul is a slave to to the cozen sound

the benefactor of the worlds, his daughter, just so frail

in a room of tragedy, illusions to unveil

the trident-hearing lord of lies, appears in diefferent ray

his sword of light reflects her delightful face

not to disregard myself, discharge my enemy

it manifests in different slaveries



and as the wind blows in cold inside the room

her angel wings now keenly hurt me too

blood on my hands, a painful legacy

a foresight might, a magic enemy



but i can't hide myself this way

she looked at me and slipped away



when you hear me with all the brightness you've been told

when you fear me sharp as a razor with a heard of gold

when you feel me, strange and beautiful and pain,

when you... fear my ...

soul temptation on and on again...



blood rains from heaven now, with every word she says

but she won't turn her angel eyes again my way

it's reeling in my bones, as darkness is released

as my tears will drift me out,

more than i can't believe



a fierce revenge on you, abanding all my shame

you'll never hurt me so, never do the same

i'll try to wahs away my pain, my spirit, flesh and bone

as teardrops are falling one by one



let me do it... alluring prophecies

my inner fear of this divine obscurity

all the whispers, my soul will ever harm

from a whisper... into the dawn



i'll never thought i'd rest my life

as skanda rules my health and pride