The days her name a prayer,
And Through the darker night.
The waning of despair,
In the holiest of rite.

Been too long since a verse,
Said of my hearts devotion,
Sorrows breed the hallowed curse,
Yet keeps the same emotion,

The timing between the beat,
And the wars ensue,
The loss no small feat,
When it only beat for you.

This paper rose, I write erelong,
As my saber and my token,
I rather sing this ancient song,
From this heart that’s broken.

The love of a broken heart,
To it’s shadows I steal,
We shall never be apart.
For this love is real.