In the bright lights breeze,
When few can see,
the color black,
Which lone'ness brings,
a long lost soul,
searches the night,
for hope which ends,
This mourning's night.
There is but a void,
There is nothing left,
There is no hope,
For Her red head.
The Saved they sing,
about darkness' end,
but yet they bring,
the Land of The Damned.
We look and see,
But we refuse to grieve,
what we want,
is all that can be.
She sits back up,
upon her stool,
and watches scarlet,
begin to pool.
There is nothing left,
it's come to this end,
the End has come,
yet Time moves on.
By The Saved she is damned...