Cold blue hands
Caressed and comforted
In this room of a thousand deaths
Dressed in black
There is no hope
And still we hear
This painful sound
I like to believe
Even unconscious
She is still fighting
Waiting for him to come
Room of a thousand deaths
Quiet and peaceful
Silence broken
Only by the painful sound 
I hate the thought
She never will live to witness
The fourth of the line
Soon to be born