All is lost not found, their bodies have been torn. The grievers remain cold, while our forgiveness has been sold. The dead have gone. Speak out the spoken. Bow to your knees. Hell is amongst us. This is what we believe. I am a witness, to spite and greed. I am a victor; this is what heaven will believe. Hold on, the dead have gone. The dead are forgotten, by your black smoked eyes. Trying to reach you, while earning a life. Forgive yourselves for, teaching us all, that knowledge is hatred, and hate we must call. When will you breakdown and when will you grieve? The past has torn us now we pray for our needs. With hopeless greed, we asked you why. Hide my thoughts and rest on the tide. We bury our needs and blame our lives. My hate will stand but I will live from pride. On and on and on I’ll breathe, more and more and more I’ll see. The lost are a part of me, see me leave.
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