Promises that have been broken,shattered,I should be use to it by now.
Walking on thin ice,like shards of broken glass I Fall into the lake of uncertain despair.
As I walk among the the roses of black pedals in the mist
of chilling twilights eve enchanted by the spirits of a cloaked
and darkened but broken bit of dreams.
I hear the screams, every thing turns to dust.
Night has come and the moon looks down,
Like the sigh of a lonely heart.
Alone in the dying night , no fear to give.
No fear to take without this relm of
dead roses and a forgoten past, a desert of sand,
A crying moon as the nights sky melts away
nothing but darkness beyound the Promises of this Unyealding out streached hands of isolation.
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