Blindly walking through the dead light
Caressing of the calloused fingers is done by her own
Feeling no work of the mends being sewn
A battle between the distrust and trust fight

Between the lovers, a combat remains bright
The wound warning to prosper if the bandage is thrown
Until the love for each other is mutually disowned
No flourishing solutions come tonight

Together their subscriber of the tears
Detect the perishment of their passion
Commencing her fingers free from the set that was once in fashion

Two faint bulbs in the shadows appear
Two rendered souls struggle out of the black
Both attempting to dominate the require to glimpse back