Tragedy strikes when you least expect it
Empty darkness consumes
Bright lights fade away as I stepped from these gates
No more of what I used to be
I am not expected
As for the ones who said they were there
These crosses we hold hold are too heavy to bear

Deep cuts keep us from the lights
We are the darkness that hides in the shadows
We tried to escape from these chains that hold us to these walls
We break tradition
Beds of thorns
Beds Black Powder and blinding white light
Beds of knives that stab us in the back like the betrayers that put us there
Shall we hide the scars of black-and-white?
For we are the gray areas overlooked and never seen