Eyes piercing,
Emeralds in the mist.
Her hair as black as any heart,
My blood still on her lips.
She speaks to me of irony,
Her calling that of love.
Singing such sweet harmony
As she kills the innocent dove.
Yet I still gaze upon her face
My angel from above.

She speaks to me in Anarchy
Where disillusionment abounds.
Tells me of the way things were,
And why peace can't be found.
Order comes from chaos,
Our love it flows from hate.
This life a candle lit in darkness;
Blown out by chance or fate.

She speaks to me of all these things,
Though I don't understand.
My illusions failed me long ago,
That's why this story began.
I called out in vain
For the immortal lie.
I longed to end this pain.
I didn't really want to die,
Only to never feel again.