She walks a road of darkened grey
And steps of blood, depart the day.
Her iced, blue lips; she's dead they say.
But no; red thorns, they make her stay.
They make her want and now she may
Let all the darkness fade away.

Her tears are now pleasure, and pain,
Mixed in a symphony insane;
With glamour, gothic in refrain...
A song 'too lost in you' again.
Your words - a razor, time's to blame
And distance... and a wicked game.

The passion is her dreadful prison
And winter her beloved season,
Her feelings beyond any reason;
Her mind in labyriths of Eden;
Her soul in Hell, she leads a legion
Of evil toughts, seducing vision.

A thrill she seeks in games of mind.
She loves their eyes being so blind...
But now she found one of her kind -
In unreal realms, her toughts entwined
By him, who always seems to find
A way to keep her heart confined.