Did my letters long convince your soul
That all was lost amongst our hearts?
Pleasure drained upon the floor
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
Balance shifted which throws me off.
What once was art is burning hearts
To leave me scarred, aghast; true horror.
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
Like laughter in wicked eyes of crows,
It shelters me not, my sorrow cloak.
And fill my heart with dust and sand
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
To wake again my soul at long last,
To deliver my forgiveness upon deaths door.
You were never mine, but I cared evermore.
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
