Six pence, A pot of gold, A leader, And a lady. Servant of the King. A ruler without a throne. Who holds the land by ring? Then learns to rule alone. Somewhere in the distance. She hides her light. Cast aside all truth, be known. He learned to love the night. And in the darkness of the past, The future finds it's way. With eyes that burn, you begin to curse the day. Sin sets the fire, To toast the soul of man. Yet in the crimson light, Most to hold my life again. So hail to the promise. And may it be avenged. To all who kiss the day, On which all life is henged. Somehow you find her. Writing in the sand. Not knowing what she wrote. In the darkness I take her hand. Stepping on the boat. stepping onto land. Looking for the crimson light. Passing by into the night. Here to make our final stand......
Originally Posted On Site: 2008-07-18 02:23:44
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