In which not only the mask dies.
So as the year has spent the meaning
Of all the hopes — the bitter days.
To learn the good within the griefing
To hope the best as I start to sink.
Why did I have to leave my fears
Behind the hills of loneliness?
Why did I have to find her here,
who loved the black behind my mask?
Hand scratching this face — for Christin and the days.
Blood dripping on dust — for the love I have lost.
My flesh and bones — for the fear and the moans.
My life — my pain — to dream with her everyday.
This angels voice that fell upon
My fading life my fading lies.
Christine may you now mask
This dying naked soul of mine.