Grim specter of the setting sun,
dark pounding of my heart,
how can it beat, and beat, and beat,
this thing... you tore apart.
How stealthily now, the days sneak past,
while I am caught between,
each haunting memory in my head,
I move just like the living dead.
And yet, this heart of mine won't stop...
it cannot understand,
that life, no longer, flows within,
this empty space... that has no end.