There is no rhythm

There is no rhyme

Having an opinion is no crime.

The snow may fall

But I'll hold my tears
Alone I face my haunting fears

The snow may fall

Against my tongue
But I feel nothing, all is numb

The snow may fall

Atop my home
Unlike those flakes, I'm all alone

The snow may fall

Yet never land
For this is it, my final stand.

This path is drenched in blood and tears, with me walking upon it,
My reign shall run for many years, without a question on it,

This path I pave is narrow,
But it's the only one,
To rid of all the sorrow,
I'll do what must be done,

I wish this path were one of love,
And not one of damnation,
For there is a goddess up above,
And I'm riding of her creation,

A crimson flower blossoms in it's search for the sun,
Again this path is one of pain but it's my only one.