Bella Morte

Angels And Faith

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Looking down at my life
I find the cold stare of spite
In a copse the angel sighs
I long to feel her at my side
Hope is dread, it waits for me
And through its cloak, I cannot see
In her arms, I wish to rest
But she's slave to cold, sweet death

And she knows what's in my heart
And she sees the falling snow
On the darkest night of life
And she sees the fires burn
Underneath the falling snow
On this darkest night of life

I trace her steps and yet I find
A search in vain to end this life
I smell the rose within her hand
Existing in the hour's sand
Hope is dread, it waits for me
And from its grasp I long to be
She shuts her eyes, the darkness falls
And life is lost to midnight's call