Tears Of The Bereaved - The 11Th Hour

Ed:

And so she finds herself alone

Dark thoughts by the grey tombstone

Far from the grieving crowd,

she sighs

«Prelude thine hour of misery»

Rogga:

Be reverent as the spirts mourn

The sadness of the ones forlorn

Their sorrow lingers, like brume

In deep bereavement, consumed

Ed:

She treads the gravel every day

To wipe the stone,

throw dead flowers away

Her pain is felt by all

in the ground

As it seeps into the soil

moribound

Rogga:

They come to shed their tears

For the loved ones buried here

Their woe is raw and deep

Sustains us while we sleep

Enduring wind and rain

To spill perpetual pain

Unspoken bond is forged

A million tears regorged

They come to revel in grief

To question their beliefs

Beneath the bones and dirt

We slither aroused in mirth

Now hollowed out inside

The mourners tears are cried

Another day has pased

The wailing ends at last

For now…