SouleThe silver rain drops.A tear fills my eye. Where is my soul? How will I die? Beyond the white fence, Upon the crimson shelf, Do you feel you are ready, To see you true self? The cold wind blows. A shiver down my spine, Where is my soul? When will death be mine? Beyond the white fence, Upon the crimson shelf, Do you feel you are ready, To see you true self? The dry leaf falls. A thought enters my head. Where is my soul? I am soon to be dead! Beyond the white fence, Upon the crimson shelf, You are indeed ready, To see you true self. The glass fire breaks. A final goodbye. My soul has been found. I am now free to die. Back |