I
See the marks, so beautifully worn,
They stand, remaining, after skin is torn
These scars of mine, so sinfully made,
Reminds of the night my sorrow was born

II
When our faith is misplaced,
And the sorrow is faced,
Looked at head on, craven though
By us, whose faith was once so chaste?

III
Behind the mask, my soul doth lie
Screaming, tearing and asking why
Always asking, seeking the answer;
Why away? On this shelf, so far, so high?

IV
Upon the rays of a bitter sun,
My soul, the night, has come undone
As I lay is sing as song of empty grief
As my death, lingering, has only just begun

V
The siren’s song is on the prowl
Joined in by a lonely howl
Shudders fall down the spine,
Upon this night, lies something foul


I pretty much hated the others so I started over.

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