• Cry, cry I do.
    Sleepless nights haunt me.

    The dreams of pain rarely leave.

    I'm holding my child in them, an innocent infant.
    An angel in all ways, of all proportions. Pure angel.

    Die the child does, She dies in my arms;
    I cry even more.

    Again, another horrid nightmare;

    With him, he who holds my bruised heart, he whom I love with all I have.
    Kissing, loving, in his safe arms I rest.

    But he always leaves in this horrid dream...

    Will they ever stop?

    Everyone dies around me,
    I stare at their tombstones.

    I cry and scream,
    no ones here to comfort me.

    On this wet ground,
    just freashly dug up.

    No one to hold me, or for me to hold back.
    To be compleatly alone,
    is my worst fear.

    Sorrow's Symphony plays again.

    A never ending tune,
    an eternal song.