6 AM, Christmas morning
No shadows
No reflections here
Lie cheek to cheek in your cold embrace.
It started so tragic as a slaughterhouse
She pressed the knife against your heart
And say that 'I love you' s
"The Moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait
soft winds whisper the bidding of trees
as this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart
and the Midnightmare trampling of dreams
But on, no tears please
Fear and pain may ac