Time
Time gives and time takes away, what will remain and what will not... So now through the moonlit garden, Walks Lady Jealousy, The inked heart upon her thigh, Laced with briars, And all your hopes of yesterday, Seeping through Her fingers, (Like ashes) they fall, Like ashes in the night, And once again the red rose of death doth bloom. But, for every death, (for every death) there is a life, A new voice in a new cradle cries, And what is gone is gone, And cannot be replaced, And what is new...