The crimson skies don't burn so bright
When the cold embrace of death brings flight
To imaginary thing that call to fight
In a once known land now dead with blight
Begging for comfort with inadiquet verse,
Fighting for our lives within the back of a hearse
Vampiric feasts upon a tablet's curse
To bring the silence to the innocents' purse
Beckoning shadow, beckoning Sun
Both to destroy us one-by-one
To be unforgiven at the end of a gun
Or remain still forgotten from mistakes now rerun
To live and let live, to die and let die
Forever be grounded with no chance to fly
Our faults left in stone so we cannot apply
An attempt to correct them: our darkest of lies
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