Like a moth to candle The summerlands made home A hollow shell, our utopia Now empty lies his oaken throne Veiled in mist, true revelation Secrets of this blessed realm Through life and death, commiserations In struggle, valour to overwhelm Each day, another pain Each dawn i die, at dusk we pray Empty dreams in midnight clouds Cloaked in doom, the darkest shroud Sleep the years hind walls of silence Safe in cairns of deepest black Weary of strife, the rancour Strength of conviction, now flowing back Cast in iron our resolutions The melting mirror would not show Reflections of a weaker side Only here are we all I shall not drown in his golden tears Save. these truths for the weaker man Nor lay my head at his feet To tremble as the meekest lamb Kiss me now for i have sinned Upon my brow a crown of thorns Ease this doubt with whispered promise As i open my veins to greet the dawn