The irony of it grieves the soul

Of another with the precious years

Now find to bask to find peace

To find if you run in my blood

So it may breathe and speaks

How funny that again it turns

In the blanket of despair

The light of its freedom

Its keeps wish for you

And it breaks angry stones

It melts and then it returns

In the darkness it slumbers

Holds you soft and delicate

It angers the irony of eternity

It does swim cold and deep

When my soul runs from you

It mourns in your hands

It laughs it aches how funny

My firing heart in need of repair

Only rises from what it seems