Demether

Cold... winter, ice and snow Sound... weeping wind that blows Me... standing on the sacred ground Night... at the ancient graveyard Soul... looking for a saviour Eyes... searching for a girl from a distant time I don't even know her name But her sile

Just like oil on canvass- Touch of red, mostly black- Thick is the air and the fog that hides her from you- Weeps- shadow- Cries - sparkle- "She sleeps, she sleeps-" Once in time, there was she, Standing by the willow tree, Longing for an old fe