Night by night, I lie awake wishing
for soothing rain;
with loss of hope and faith,
I ask to ease this lonely pain.
With feeling lost and full of doubt,
trapped in frozen time;
this stench of lies between the worldly grime,
now follows behind me forevermore.
I hear the ghost of mine alone,
calling throughout the night;
with darkness in his voice, tormented with delight.
“Forsaken me.” must he said.
and I, afraid of what now to come.
“Forsaken me.” the voice grows strong.
and I, longing for what now to come.
But thus this be but a dream,
or a life without a dream?
A life without faith and hope
and all, does it seem?
Could this be a mirror of my life?
Reflecting my steady fear;
asking questions, reflections
about life and love and death.
Forsaken me, is all I hear,
could it be that death is near?
“Forsaken me.” must he said.
and I, afraid of what now to come.
“Forsaken me.” the voice grows strong.
and I, longing for what now to come.
Again, must I go through this?
The feeling of emptiness;
the knowledge that all could end,
and this heart to not be mend.
Again, must I go through this,
to live a life, a life amiss?
“Forsaken me.” must he said
and I, afraid of what now to come.
“Forsaken me.” the voice grows strong,
and I, longing for what now to come.
It is time to face my ghost
and all the things I boast.
Forsaken me nonetheless,
freeing I, from my demon possess.
Now I lie myself to slumber,
forsaken myself with terrible heap.
“Forsaken me.” the voice goes on,
even ‘gainst the blackest dawn.
Forsaken me forevermore,
with every burden I must bore.
I see the ghost in tainted light,
following the waking of the night.
Condemn me, condemn me,
it knows not what this curse may be.
Forsaken me, forsaken me,
let my broken life see.
“Forsaken me.” must he said
and I, afraid of what now to come.
“Forsaken me.” the voice grows strong
and I, longing for what now to come.
My life's in shackles,
my misery, my hackles,
my longing for redemption.
I see a door, cracked and torn,
as I bowed my head to mourn;
for my endless shadow of my endless fate,
swallowed in life, by all things I hate.
“Forsaken me.” the voice goes on,
even ‘gainst the blackest of dawn.
Forsaken me forevermore,
with every burden I must bore.
Must this ghost be me, but an echo
of what yet to come;
the presence I feel, the nameless numb?
Must this be my suffering end,
must I now make amend
with but a single heartache,
on the night of my Irish wake?
“Forsaken me.” the voice goes on,
even ‘gainst the blackest of dawn.
Forsaken me forevermore,
with every burden I must bore.
Could it be that the ghost I spoke of;
could it be that it's really me?
Forsaken, as the years go by,
to find all things must die.
Being left in solitude,
cold and alone and yes, even nude.
Myself I now forsaken,
curse to sleep and never awaken.
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