The Light
The fire that once guided my way home is long extinguished,
The cold wind howls through the trees,
The night is dark, and full of horrors,
and I don’t have my flame.
I cry, I shout, I rip myself apart,
And all that’s left is pain.
The fire that once guided my way home is long extinguished,
The cold wind howls through the trees,
The night is dark, and full of horrors,
and I don’t have my flame.
I cry, I shout, I rip myself apart,
And all that’s left is pain.