As blood runs from the grayest stone, rich and crimson.
Or as birds bearing tarnished feathers and broken wings take flight,
Your hand finds mine in darkness.
Even when the stars are too tired to shine and the moon too weary to present himself,
I will undoubtedly feel your touch.
I found freedom behind bars, a poisonous antidote, a comforting pain.
Our paradise now feeling the slow acting poison that is regret,
We will have to wait until sunrise for our hands to meet.
My last indulgence rests upon your lips.
A thousand broken vows make my own unworthy of your kiss.
