I go to my shadowy grave,
an wait for the rave,
as i look around,
its nothing but a ghost town,
lost and found,
truth or lies,
wasn't the denied,
by the souls below,
as my prayers,
go down in flames,
as the reaper comes,
an walks among,
these souls,
how cold and lonely,
it was once more upon the grave,
it lays ,
above its chamber of lost dreams,
if it seems,
as it flew in a beam,
for this isn't its dream,
thats meant to be,
or as it seems to be,
that this day comes and you will see,
its miserable soulless dreams,
that wasn't meant to be ,
as i lays there,
it seems to disappear,
into thin air.
