11th Hour Tears Of The Bereaved
Ed:
And so she finds herself alone
Dark thoughts by the grey tombstone
Far from the grieving crowd,
she sighs
"Prelude thine hour of misery"
Rogga:
Be reverent as the spirts mourn
The sadness of the ones forlorn
Their sorrow lingers, like brume
In deep bereavement, consumed
Ed:
She treads the gravel every day
To wipe the stone,
throw dead flowers away
Her pain is felt by all
in the ground
As it seeps into the soil
moribound
Rogga:
They come to shed their tears
For the loved ones buried here
Their woe is raw and deep
Sustains us while we sleep
Enduring wind and rain
To spill perpetual pain
Unspoken bond is forged
A million tears regorged
They come to revel in grief
To question their beliefs
Beneath the bones and dirt
We slither aroused in mirth
Now hollowed out inside
The mourners tears are cried
Another day has pased
The wailing ends at last
For now...
