Draped in white cerecloth Waiting for the crows to fester with claws Ripping my solitude apart A faint dream disappearing at dawn Slowly dimming my light Silencing the remains of my day It echoes back and forth The moment she gave me the crown of thorns The wind brought nothing to grasp Whispering of coming holocausts Is it the well of hope as deemed to some Or the coming of repentless scorn Only when none is left to be taken To see how your grace has fallen For a long time led astray When only harm answered my pray I finally hear your last sigh goodbye And so it began, the tide of prosperity Yet grieve for the wounds of salt you gave to me Even how bitter the wine may taste Yet it will soothe the crusade I have to face The wind brought nothing to grasp Whispered of holocaust The well of hope, deemed to some Come the repentless scorn Only when none is left to be taken To see how your grace has fallen For a long time led astray When only harm answered my pray I finally hear your last sigh goodbye Her last sigh!