A heart as black as coal
But it bleeds akin to a thousand men
And eyes as cold as stone
Cold as the nights he dwelt alone
And to the darkest night he'd sell his soul
To lay one hand on his lover's hips
He longs to taste her blood
Red lips
Caress porcalaine skin with icy finger tips
Now in his mind
Through chilling banshee's wails
He hears choirs of angels sing her name
But oceans of time adrift in the abyss
Had left a void of meaninglessness
He can't reach her for those cursed chains
A paradox his existence remains
