Night falls upon her blessed face,
Pulled into her tired embrace,
Bleeding out is stabbed my sweet Grace.
As the cold of death enters my air-space,
Can be it a dream?
I lose my air to scream.
The dream is not what it may seem.
Hate?
why it's to late.
Can I Dream?
We are a team.
This is a Dream.
But as the love in us continues to beam.
Is this my true nightmare?
Can be it a world unfairest and true?
Love is few and ist so hue.
Left Alone. Her look in her eyes are that of a pawn.
The light in her eyes..
Are gone.
