Running, running, running from the ghosts of her past
Demons follow her patterns of sleep, imbedding thoughts of insanity and doubt
Love is but a corrupt diamond chiseled from the blood of slaves

Without direction, there is no home
Without hope, lust for loneliness is the only option

In the dark path of a future drenched in fear, she can only cry on the shoulders of a man no longer by her side
She cannot hold the future she feels she needs

Desire is disguised in the post apocalypse of a heart emptied in the barren reservoir

Dry and gasping for air she is still
Afraid to feel
Afraid to love
Afraid to be held by the promise of a new sunrise

Can the end be so near for such a young soul?
A soul born into misfortune; guided into the direction of darkness

It is a tale without a future; without a past; without forgiveness

With one final call, from the horizon of a sun tipped mountaintop, a whisper is heard