, when there's nothing left A place where truth can hide A place where falling angels survive A place where fear rusts though pride A place where heroes
A blessing in tragedy Burning what's left in effigy Wreckage, when there's nothing left Wreckage, the birthright of regret A place where truth can hide
Vertaling: Darkest Hour. Een zegen in Tragedie.
the spirit of time Like a stranger in a foreign world! In a park, along the alleys, stained with blood and tears In the hour, when dusk disperses Its
below the miles of frozen moisture, they unlocked a written history of Blessing from its almost undiscovered tomb. So begins the story of Magica. It was a
A flood of sentiments entwined Rattle thru my falling soul I slumber against the spirit of time Like a stranger in a foreign world! In a park, along
Near Dark (...Und Der Tod Wird Vor Neid Erblassen) [Part One] This is a world blessed by the victims Of carnal tragedy The humans ritual of love
