Intentions

'Tis unto time we slit their throats
For then so soon the world shall know
What you and I have done here now
In blackness of the storm

Death is a subtle heart of souls
The night comes down so swift and cold
We tread upon the brinks of Hell
From which we cannot turn

Why they curse us, I don't know
We've made the cycle one and whole
Instead of saints we're murderers
And cast away in hate

Now I die here in your arms
I'm torn of life, you're still so warm
I'll wait for you to join me soon
Death is our sweet release

Here we are beneath the sea
We lay our knives down and are free
Our job is done, our task fulfilled
And love is ours to take