To those whose porcelain skin be shrouded in sin,
surrender your severed limbs.
Feel all the fear, for he is no longer with you.
Awake my soul from serenity but dare not fasten those chains.
My loyalty lay dying, but it lay
there all the same.
I traced my spine and blades, yet all the growth was stunted.
I felt just the skin and bones half-heartedly compiled.
My gracious aura failed me, a putrid cloud continued.
With clipped wings I am fallen and beckoned into darkness.
If angels be the at the hand of god, oh where does that leave me?
I am the child of the night,
I walk the valley not free.
But none, I think, do there embrace.