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
