Bella Morte Remains Angels And Faith Looking down at my life I find the cold stare of spite In a copse the angel sighs I long to feel her at my side Hope is dread, it waits for me And through its cloak, I cannot see In her arms, I wish to rest But she's slave to cold, sweet death And she knows what's in my heart And she sees the falling snow On the darkest night of life And she sees the fires burn Underneath the falling snow On this darkest night of life I trace her steps and yet I find A search in vain to end this life I smell the rose within her hand Existing in the hour's sand Hope is dread, it waits for me And from its grasp I long to be She shuts her eyes, the darkness falls And life is lost to midnight's call |
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