Slowly falling, slipping down, but i don't hit the ground still my soul is a slave to to the cozen sound the benefactor of the worlds, his daughter, just so frail in a room of tragedy, illusions to unveil the trident-hearing lord of lies, appears in diefferent ray his sword of light reflects her delightful face not to disregard myself, discharge my enemy it manifests in different slaveries and as the wind blows in cold inside the room her angel wings now keenly hurt me too blood on my hands, a painful legacy a foresight might, a magic enemy but i can't hide myself this way she looked at me and slipped away when you hear me with all the brightness you've been told when you fear me sharp as a razor with a heard of gold when you feel me, strange and beautiful and pain, when you... fear my ... soul temptation on and on again... blood rains from heaven now, with every word she says but she won't turn her angel eyes again my way it's reeling in my bones, as darkness is released as my tears will drift me out, more than i can't believe a fierce revenge on you, abanding all my shame you'll never hurt me so, never do the same i'll try to wahs away my pain, my spirit, flesh and bone as teardrops are falling one by one let me do it... alluring prophecies my inner fear of this divine obscurity all the whispers, my soul will ever harm from a whisper... into the dawn i'll never thought i'd rest my life as skanda rules my health and pride