Symphony For The Dead

Symphony For The Dead

One same single day of the year, every year under the light of a black sun, before frozen statues that stand with eyes blue and numb, the damned gather to tell a hallowed tale and sing of lives that have come undone. 

A welcome howl to those who should have known better too late, only condemned by self fate, the spirits of dark unknown, now laying in a grave self sewn. 

A cry to those lost among the shadows, when the dark night came to call, those that ran from forever, when forever felt like all.

The bright lights that shine, in a child's carved cruel eyes, a disguised angel of flame, that wouldn’t stop what came, with neither honour nor shame, when there was no one to blame. 

Those that couldn’t let go, fought the demons inside but within their eyes, where no sympathy could hide, now riding black skies, hoping the innocent should hear their cries. 

They left behind to live among rolling fogs, through the orchards with trees that whisper, upon the blackest night of all, speaking of solitude and yearning, a condemned beckoning call. 

In cast shadows they gather, faint laughter filled by scowls, no love of a father, their dark mother feared by all, where like leaves they scatter, with joyous howls heard by all.

Tonight souls shall dance in flames, Saint Lucifer hears them praying for thee, on this eve for all saints, high is their price, though nothing is free, they who are mute atoned from eternal shame. 

Into the winds they throw a word, as they shout out to the rain, death can taste good so I hope they heard, should they never live again. 

Through spider webs glazed with frost, where none were due to sleep, more stunning now than in their lives, below a bed of autumn leaves. 

Those that worshipped the sun, were worshipped by no one, on the darkest night when none should gather, souls lost to the abyss, surrendered souls for a fiery kiss.

Staring in softened eyes of deadliest fate, with a heart that’s been ripped out of place, their shame left nothing inside, little choice when it’s already too late, taken by a thief playing with fate, when you can’t let go of the feelings you hide?

Will it be your soul they would sell in exchange for blue flame? 

Or will you find them in the shadows when the darkness comes to call? 

On the darkest of nights, souls suspended in flames, within vengeful eyes,  hell hath no sympathy, couldn’t stop what took place, defiled without any trace, hearts that couldn’t say no to forbidden poisons they sold. 

Oh no! Disguised children would cry, Unworldly tomes of beings now unknown.

Oh no!, Disguised children could try, Condemned souls lost of eternal night.

Through the orchards with trees that whisper, upon the blackest night of all, speaking of solitude and yearning, a condemned beckoning call. 

In shadows cast they gather, faint laughter filled by scowls, no love of a father, their dark mother feared by all, where like leaves they scatter, joyous howls heard by all.

A howl to those who should have known better too late, only condemned by self fate, the spirits of dark unknown, now laying in a grave self sewn. 

A cry lost among the shadows, when the dark night came to call, for those that ran from forever, when forever felt like all.