The demons of the past, present and future,
Fight for the soul that is lost
And the angels weep as love is overcome.
In the winding walkways towards the abyss,
The hollow screams and shallow dreams,
Fill the voids of regret and the crevices of despair.
In the fairness of loving and dying,
The roses bloom brightest in bloodied torment-
Forever young the hopes of the unseen,
As the tender trails of redemption,
Disappear into fleeting visions of wonder.
Following the footsteps of the dead,
New horizons on landscapes ravaged-
Are born through the eyes of the blind,
The dumb and muted, see more clearly
The sights of the hidden and the unknown.