How many years has it been?
Was it three, or was it thirty?
Everything bottled up within
Haunts me without mercy.
In my dreams, I will never forget
That one day that began this all.
No manner of labor can pay off this debt
That holds me midnight ‘til dawn.
I am cursed that I must always remember
The folly of my final years;
‘Twas in a cold, dark eve in December
The beginning of the end drew near.
I gave up my life, a young girl to protect,
I thought it righteous deed;
But inside of it now, I can never forget
The nightmare to which it did lead.
Could noble death pardon sins of the past?
All iniquities of my heart?
Apparently not, for I see now at last
The place I went to is dark.
So easily forgiven, was that what I thought?
Forgiven for answering one call?
The eternity after which I had sought
Was not where I landed at all.
Infinite darkness, always consuming me;
I am alone, to sit in shame.
And even in silence of death I still see
That there is no one else to blame.
This is my fate, there is naught I can do.
Yet even the silence seems to allude,
That no matter what else I think to be true,
There is a solace in solitude.