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All in the hands turn to ashes.

All that is loved are hurt and pushed away.

All wanted is denied.

Within pride and I allow mysef to fall.

Lay down a shattered man.

All wanted is denied.

All that is loved are hurt and pushed away.

All in the hands turn to ashes.

Safe to be apart from reality, a time out.

Darkness is over the brim.

Tainting all that is cherished.

The ashes made by the hands,

I shift through in hopes of finding a small relic

of the Bless Times.

A relic of cherished love always bright

in the midnight world.

All I have is ashes and a few jewel relics.

Standing on firm feet and storing the precious relics.

I walk along the Highway.

Allowing the darkness to take claim

until I am strong enough to contain it again.