What was called upon in the hours leading before the black? Her soul in a fit of rage between the poison and her pure blood. Twisting her morning song it was the Devils voice which answered back, I should have left her then by the solemn screams stopped me in my tracks.

The twisted face of death in a blue moon light, purging the last words of human life and those final words still terrorise my mind. ´Kill this image of Lucifers eye´.

But I fell upon my knees and I cried and the stories are still told, of the days when life ended cold. And now eternal the horror is too real, wallow in darkness deaths promise never revealed.

Burning the ashes for finality, Ill never meet you, your´e always beyond my reach.

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