Blood Marks My Grave
THE DROWNING (UK)
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A hollow wind sweeps from the sea
Over a barren cliff face
That's holds a life lost in the frozen earth
Loss so pristine drapes the earthen mound
A cairn to stand against time
This an immortal end
Bleeding to the sky
Nothing grows on this dead land
Scarred by sky and salt
Yet there grows a single rose
Ashen white
Pale as the grave it withers and must die
It drinks my sorrow holds my fear
Yet crimson it blooms
From the end it is yet saved
It feeds on me
As blood marks my grave
Funeral bloom every year hence
I live again my pain erupts
I writhe in my crypt as life's drained
Though I have none to give
And as seasons change all
Remains a barren land
A bitter sky and hateful sea
I am all alone and can never atone
My penance from which I am never saved
Yet there grows a single rose
Ashen white
Pale as the grave it withers and must die
It drinks my sorrow holds my fear
Yet crimson it blooms
From the end it is yet saved
It feeds on me
As blood marks my grave
Broken and drained
Eternity claimed
As the rose dies and fades
And blood marks my grave