As the whisper of mother's grace, beckons the will,
The human may fall pray, and sit in a forever tomb of decay,
Ashes to ash, dusk to dawn, we lie in that place,
Forever praying for mother's grace.

Lie awake listening to the music of the heavenly night,
Wishing to gaze upon that star that forever lies "Stay were You are"
The water of dew dances upon our face, spinning, running, like wind
Forever praying for mother's grace

Inhaling the cleansed breath of her holy gasps,
Lust for it savour's, subtle kiss, begging for an everlasting breath,
Decaying under mother's grace, death upon her face, here we rest, Forever in mother's breath.

The murmurs of time, shift, crack, as we descend,
The fade of light no longer blinds, as our gate to see, slowly dies,
Walking among the ashes of live,
Forshadow our future graves.

Eyes devouring, sight of nigh, torment of our sin,
Chained, of old homes, now belong to our demon's throne,
Here we die, hoping for mother's grace, our bodies lie.
......
In the valley of the saints.