Funeral For The Mirror
Cry
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Ravens croaking melancholic choirs
As I shovel into the graver the burial soil
The cold winds soothe me
With their warm embrace
Comforting me from my own sorrow
Broken were all the pieces inside
As I bury it deeper and deeper as deep as my void
The soul that was never alive is now dead
Shrouded by filth inhumed so hollow
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In a tomb full of thorns
So lifeless and pale it lay
In depths where no light shone
Where roses bled black to decay
Funeral for the mirror
On abandoned land
Funeral for the mirror
On abandoned land