Somber shadows, all but fade,
fog of failures ever looming.
Sinking softly in the shade,
melancholy, all consuming.
Heavy is the heart of my demise.
Who, but I, can look through these eyes?

But dusk brings dawn, in darkest ways,
and morning sets the sun ablaze.
Sparks of fire ignite the coal,
Uncover my spirit and light my soul.
If burnt or buried, my sun must set,
Then flames, I burst without regret.
Who, but I, can look through these eyes?