Somber is its embrace, quiet is its plea.
Justified by its grace, accompanied by a melody.
Sitting on its throne, its staff hilted with disception.
As you plead and groan, it sits, Disregarding all objection.
Tears drip from your heart, completing its monet`.
Misguided from the start, broken; your foundations sway.
With one last kiss, the demon lifts its wings to the sky.
Swept into the abyss, aspirations begin to die.
Though not an earthly place, love is still sent to us.
Still we turn from his face, putting up a fuss.
Sinners we were born, sinners we will die.
All of earth surely did mourn, when he died for you and I.