Fast as the day is winding down The night dark as a river A mist before my weary eyes No saviour to deliver An empty mask the easel stands No painter's breath to help her No priest to ease her solitude No Christ to be her shelter My tainted blood may serve as hate To those who live in waiting Unborn undead time murdered me A child of her creating Time like a running tomb pursues Her whispers softly call me Awake me not my dreams are done Let sleep forgive my folly