The Room Where She Died

I stand, lost in shadows of
Years of lament etched into four walls
Like a whisper
A feverish dream

Where only echoes respond
I keep asking: How long?

This caravan follows a hearse
Leaving the Room where she died
Dying begins at birth
To suffer is the way of our kind

Let lies sit like baskets of
Flowers in bloom
Colours bright and false
She will dance on Hyperion's field

Where I'm still wondering why
She hit her head on the sky?

To be alive is only to acknowledge time as it is
Do you remember the feeling of being alive with lightning in your mind?
Sinners and saints join the broken and brave in this memory plane
We're all the same

Cold are your nights
Hours will pass as you strangle time
Dead are your eyes
Nevertheless all the corpses still waltz by your side

Pain walks on broken feet
A broken heart keeps the beat
Still she hums softly

Looking through cloudy window panes
Without moving for ever and a day
Then the light comes to greet her face
And brush the dust from her broken brain

Eyes say what the voice cannot
Is this where it ends?
Here, our paths must part
Just a helpless spectator, am I

And I keep questioning God
To drown out the ferryman's calls